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IT WAS THE LONGEST HIT THAT EVER HAD BEEN MADE 
THE POLO GROUNDS. 


ON 


‘‘Baseball Joe, Home Run King.” 


Page 233 




Baseball Joe, 
Home Run King 

OR 

The Greatest Pitcher and Batter 
on Record 

By LESTER CHADWICK 

K 

Author of 

“Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars,” “Baseball 
Joe in the Big League,” “The Rival Pitchers,” 
“The Eight-Oared Victors,” etc. 

ILLUSTRATED * 


NEW YORK 

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY 




BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK 


THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 

BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS 
BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL TEAM 
BASEBALL JOE AT YALE 
BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE 
BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE 
BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS 
BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES 
BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD 
BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 

THE RIVAL PITCHERS 
A QUARTERBACK’S PLUCK 
BATTING TO WIN 
THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN 
FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL 
THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS 


CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, New York 



Copyright, 1922 , by 
Cupples & Leon Company 


Baseball Joe, Home Rim King 


Printed in U. S. A. 

3 


m -5 1922 

§)CI. A651553 








CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I A Dangerous Plunge . i 

II A Surprise . 17 

III Reggie Turns Up. 33 

IV The Anonymous Letter. 43 

V “Play Ball!” . 54 

VI Getting the Jump. 61 

VII Stealing Home. 71 

VIII A Baseball Idol.. 79 

IX An Old Enemy. 87 

X Three In a Row. 94 

XI Right From the Shoulder. 101 

XII Jim's Winning Ways. 108 

XIII A Break in the Luck. 117 

XIV A Delightful Surprise. 123 

XV A Evening Ride. 131 

XVI The Attack on the Road. 136 

XVII Falling Behind . 143 

XVIII In the Throes of a Slump. 151 

XIX A Close Call. 157 

XX Speeding Up. 163 

XXI The Winning Streak. 170 

XXII Striving for Mastery. 178 
























CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXIII /Holding Them Down. 184 

XXIV A Crushing Blow. 191 

XXV Lining Them Out. 197 

XXVI The Tireless Foe. 203 

XXVII Champions of the League. 210 

XXVIII The World Series. 218 

XXIX The Game of His Life. 224 

XXX Champions of the World. 230 










BASEBALL JOE, 
HOME RUN KING 


CHAPTER I 

A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 

“I’m going to tie you up in knots, old man,” said 
Jim Barclay, with a smile, as he picked up the ball 
and stepped into the box in batting practice at the 
training camp. 

“I’ve heard that kind of talk before,” retorted 
Joe Matson, known all over the country as “Base¬ 
ball Joe,” the king pitcher of the Giants. “But 
untying knots is the best thing I do. Give me the 
best you have in the shop.” 

Jim wound up and put one over that just cut the 
corner of the plate. Joe made a mighty swing at 
it, but it was just beyond his reach. 

“Nearly broke your back reaching for that one, 
eh?” laughed Jim, as the ball was thrown back to 
him. 

“I was just kidding you that time,” grinned Joe. 
“I’m going to kill the next one.” 



2 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Again the ball whizzed to the plate. It was a 
fast, straight ball with a slight hop to it. Joe 
caught it near the end of his bat and “leaned on 
it” heavily. The ball soared out between right 
and center, and the outfielders covering that posi¬ 
tion gave one look at it and then turned and ran 
with the ball. But it kept on and on until it cleared 
the fence, and the discomfited fielders threw up 
their hands and came slowly back to their posi¬ 
tions. 

Jim looked sheepish, and Joe, who was his chum 
and best friend, laughed outright as he relin¬ 
quished the bat to the next man in line. 

“A sweet home run, Jim,” he remarked. 

“I should say so!” snorted Jim. “That hit was 
good for two home runs. The ball was ticketed 
for kingdom come.” 

“Who was it said that pitchers couldn’t hit?” 
laughed Mylert, the burly catcher of the Giant 
team, as he took Joe’s place. 

“I’ll tell the world that some of them can!” 
exclaimed Jim, as he prepared to try his luck again. 
“Gee, Joe, if that had happened to me in a regular 
game, it would have broken my heart.” 

Two keen-eyed men in uniform had been stand¬ 
ing near the side lines, watching intently every 
move of the players, as they tried out their batting 
eyes and arms. One was stocky and of medium 
height, with hair that had begun to grey at the 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


3 


temples. The other was stout and ruddy, with a 
twinkle in his eyes that bespoke good nature. 
Both were veterans of many hard-fought baseball 
campaigns, and both had played on the Balti¬ 
more Orioles when that great organization of 
stars was the sensation of the baseball world. 

“Did you see that hit, Robbie?” asked McRae, 
the manager of the Giants, of his stout companion. 

“Not all of it,” replied Robson, the coach of 
the team. “But I followed it as far as the fence. 
That was a whale of a wallop. I’ll bet the ball’s 
going yet,” and the man chuckled gleefully. 

“Of course, this was only in practice,” mused 
McRae. “Perhaps Barclay wasn’t trying over 
hard.” 

“Don’t kid yourself, Mac,” replied Robson. 
“Barclay wasn’t just lobbing them up. That ball 
came over like a bullet. It had a hop on it too, 
but Joe gauged it just right. I tell you that boy is 
a wonder. If he wasn’t a wizard in the box, he’d 
be a terror at the bat.” 

“I wish there were two of him, Robbie,” said the 
manager, smiling. “One to cover the mound and 
the other to use as a pinch hitter or play him in 
the outfield. That would make a combination 
hard to beat.” 

“It was the best day’s work you ever did when 
you got that lad from St. Louis,” remarked Rob¬ 
son. “I’ll bet the Cardinal’s manager feels like 


4 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

throwing a fit every time he thinks what a fool he 
was to let him go.” 

“Well,” said McRae, “if everybody’s fore¬ 
sight in baseball was as good as his hindsight, 
there’d be no trading done. I don’t mind saying 
that I throw out my chest a little for having seen 
what was in the kid. He’s certainly been the mak¬ 
ing of the team.” 

“One thing is certain; and that is that you 
wouldn’t have the World’s Championship tucked 
away if it hadn’t been for his great work in the 
Series,” rejoined Robson. “He just had those 
Chicago birds eating out of his hand.” 

“Right you are,” admitted McRae. “Here’s 
hoping he’ll repeat this season.” 

“Don’t worry a bit about that,” was Robson’s 
confident answer. “You can see for yourself that 
he^s been going great guns in practice. And even 
at that he hasn’t been letting himself out. He’s 
taking good care of that old soup-bone of his.” 

“He was never better in his life,” declared Mc¬ 
Rae. “I’ll admit that I was a little worried for 
fear that the trip around the world had taken 
something out of him. You know what a strain he 
was under in that All-Star League affair, Robbie. 
But it hasn’t seemed to affect him at all.” 

“He’ll need all he’s got this year,” said Robbie 
thoughtfully. “We’ll have to depend more on the 
pitching than we did last year, because we’re not so 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


5 


strong on the batting end. When Burkett quit, it 
took away a good deal of our hitting strength, and 
youVe seen that Mylert is slipping. On the form 
he’s shown in practice this spring, he won’t be good 
for more than a two hundred and fifty per cent 
average, and that’s about sixty points below what 
he showed last year.” 

“I know it,” agreed the manager, a worried 
look coming into his face. “And what makes it 
worse is that Larry, too, is slow in rounding into 
form. Instead of lining them out, he’s sending 
them up in the air. He’ll be just pie for the fielders 
if he keeps it up. I can’t understand the thing 
at all.” 

“Oh, well,” said Robbie, whose jolly disposition 
never let him stay long under a cloud, “here’s hop¬ 
ing that they’ll come to the scratch when the season 
opens. Some of the rookies look pretty good to 
me, and if the old-timers fall down we may be able 
to fill their places all right. Come along, Mac; 
let’s finish working out that schedule for the trip 
north. We’ll have to get a hustle on to be in shape 
to start to-morrow.” 

McRae gave the signal to his men that practice 
time was over, and the young athletes, nothing loth 
to drop their work and get down to the hotel for 
dinner, began to gather up their bats preparatory 
to jumping into the bus which was waiting outside 
the grounds. But before they got to it, McRae and 


6 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Robson had climbed in and given the signal to the 
driver to start. 

“No, you don’t!” he called out with a grin, as the 
bus started away. “You fellows leg it down to the 
hotel. It’s only two miles, and you need the exer¬ 
cise. Get a move on, or Robbie and I will clear 
the table before you get there.” 

There were grunts and groans from the players, 
for the sun was warm and the practice had been 
strenuous. But there was no help for it, and they 
dropped into a dog trot that was quickened by the 
thought of the dinner that was waiting for them 
at the end of the journey. 

They reached the hotel in good time, took a 
shower bath, changed into their regular clothes, 
and were soon at the table with an appetite that 
swept the board and made the colored waiters roll 
their eyes in wonder, not unmixed with awe. 

After the meal was finished, Joe and Jim were 
on their way to the room they shared together 
when they passed McRae and Robbie, who were 
sitting in the lobby enjoying their after-dinner 
cigars. 

McRae beckoned to them, and they went over to 
where the pair was sitting. 

“Well, boys,” said the manager, as he motioned 
to a couple of chairs into which they dropped, 
“our spring practice is over and I don’t mind say¬ 
ing that I’m feeling good over the way you fellows 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


7 

ate up your work. Both of you look as fit as 
fiddles.” 

“That’s sure the way we feel,” answered Joe, 
and Jim murmured acquiescence. 

“In fact you look so good,” went on McRae, 
knocking the ashes from his cigar and settling back 
comfortably in his chair, “that I’m going to call 
training finished, as far as you two are concerned. 
Just now you’re right at the top of your form, and 
I don’t want to take any chances on your going 
stale. So I’m going to let you rest up for the next 
week or ten days. All you have to do is to take 
good care of yourselves—and I know you boys 
well enough to be sure you’ll do that—and turn 
up in shape when the season opens week after 
next.” 

Joe and Jim looked at each other, and the same 
thought was in the mind of each. This seemed 
too good to be true! 

“We start north to-morrow,” went on McRae, 
“in two lots, playing minor league teams on the 
way to keep in practice. The regulars will go 
along with me, while Robbie will take the second 
string men and the rookies. We’ll jog along in 
easy fashion and hope to reach the Polo Grounds 
in the pink of condition.” 

By this time Joe had found his voice. He 
smiled broadly. 

“That’s mighty good of you, Mac,” he said, “I 


8 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

suppose you want us then to go right through to 
New York.” 

“That’s the idea,” replied the manager. “Rob¬ 
bie will see to your transportation this afternoon.” 

But just here, Robson, who had been watching 
the boys’ faces, broke into a laugh. 

“For the love of Mike, wake up Mac!” he 
adjured his friend. “Don’t you know that Joe 
lives only a couple of hundred miles from here 
right over the border ? And don’t you remember 
those two pretty girls that were with us on the 
World Tour? And didn’t we hear Joe telling Jim 
a few days ago that his sweetheart was visiting his 
folks ? And here you are sending the lads straight 
through to New York with never a stop on the 
way. Mac, old man, I’m ashamed of you.” 

McRae grinned as he looked at the faces of the 
young men—faces that had grown suddenly red. 

“Robbie hit the nail on the head, did he?” he 
said, with a chuckle. “Well, I’m Irishman enough 
to have a soft spot in my heart for the lads and 
their colleens. Fix it up, boys, to suit yourselves. 
As long as you report on time, that’s all I ask. Get 
along with you now, as Robbie and I have got to 
fix up our routes.” 

Joe and Jim were only too glad to “get along,” 
and after thanking McRae hurried to their room, 
where they indulged in a wild war dance. 

“Glory, hallelujah!” shouted Joe. “A whole 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


9 


week or more to ourselves, and home only two 
hundred miles away!” 

“Your home is,” replied Jim. “Mine’s more 
than a thousand miles away.” 

“You old sardine!” cried Joe, throwing a book 
at his head. “Isn’t my home yours? Do you 
think I’d dare show my face there without bring¬ 
ing you along? Clara would never forgive me. 
Neither would Mabel. Neither would Momsey 
nor Dad. Get a wiggle on now, old man, and hunt 
up a time-table.” 

Jim, with his face jubilant at the thought of soon 
seeing Joe’s pretty sister, hustled about for the 
time-table; and with heads close together the 
young men were soon poring over the schedules. 
At last Joe straightened up with a vexed exclama¬ 
tion. 

“Of all the roundabout w T ays!” he ejaculated. 
“We’ll have to change three or four different times 
with all sorts of bad connections, and can’t reach 
Riverside until to-morrow afternoon.” 

“Wait a minute,” said Jim, running his pencil 
along a column. “Here’s a line that will get us to 
Martinsville early to-morrow morning, just before 
daylight. How far is Martinsville from River¬ 
side?” 

“About fifty miles more or less,” replied Joe. 
“But crickey, Jim, that gives me an idea ! What’s 
the matter with going to Martinsville and hiring 


10 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

an auto there? I know Hank Bixby who keeps a 
garage there and has autos for hire. He used to 
live in Riverside, and played with me on the old 
school nine before his folks moved away. I’ll send 
him a wire telling him what time we’ll get there 
and asking him to have a first-class car ready 
for us.” 

“You know the road all right, do you?” asked 
Jim. “Remember it will be dark when we get 
there.” 

“I know it like a book,” replied Joe. “I’ve been 
over it many a time. I could travel it in the dark. 
It’s as level as a table until you get to Hebron. 
Just beyond that there’s a steep hill that will give 
the car something to do. But Hank will give me 
a machine that can climb it, and, besides, it will be 
just about daylight by the time we get there. It’s 
a cinch that we won’t have any trouble. I’ll bet a 
hat—what’s the matter, Jim?” 

For Jim had risen and moved quickly toward 
the door, which had been standing partly open. 
He put out his head and looked down the corridor. 
Not satisfied with that, he went down the hall to 
the head of the stairs. Then he slowly retraced 
his steps. 

Joe, who had followed his chum to the door, 
looked at him with open-mouthed wonder. 

“What’s the matter with you?” he queried. 
“Have you gone daffy?” 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


ii 


“Not exactly,” replied Jim. “I thought I saw 
somebody I knew go past the door.” 

“Likely enough,” said Joe, with a touch of sar¬ 
casm. “It wouldn’t be at all surprising. The 
hotel is full of our fellows.” 

“It wasn’t one of our boys,” returned Jim 
slowly. 

“Well, who was it then?” asked Joe, a little 
impatiently. “Come out of your trance, old man.” 

“I think it was a fellow we know only too well,” 
Jim replied. “I think it was Braxton.” 

“Braxton!” exclaimed Joe with sudden interest. 
“The fellow that was with us on the World 
Tour?” 

“The same one,” affirmed Jim. “The fellow 
you licked within an inch of his life in the old Irish 
castle.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Joe. “It doesn’t seem 
at all likely that we’d run across that rascal in this 
little training-camp town. What on earth would 
he be doing down here?” 

“That’s just what I want to know,” replied Jim 
soberly. “As you say, it’s all against the chances 
that we should run across him here by accident. 
If he’s here, he’s come with some purpose. And 
that purpose means nothing good for you. He’s 
exactly the sort of man that won’t forget that 
thrashing.” 

“I guess he won’t,” replied Joe grimly. “My 


12 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

knuckles ache now when I think of it. But 
if he’s looking for another licking, he sure can 
have it.” 

“He isn’t looking for another,” Jim returned. 
“He’s looking to get even for the first one you 
gave him. You know he swore at the time that 
he’d pay you up for it.” 

“He’s welcome to try,” declared Joe indiffer¬ 
ently. “But really, Jim, I think you’re mistaken. 
It seems too improbable. There are plenty of men 
in the world who look like Braxton.” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t swear it was he,” 
admitted Jim. “I only saw him side-face, and he 
slipped past the door like a, ghost.” 

“Well, we’ll keep our eyes open about the hotel 
and around the town,” rejoined Joe. “But now 
let’s think of pleasanter things. Our train goes at 
six, and we’ve got lots to do in getting our duds 
packed. Then, too, I’ve got to wire to Hank and 
must get the tickets for as far as the cars will 
carry us.” 

The afternoon proved a busy one, but by train 
time they had completed their packing, said good- 
by to the rest of the team, who frankly envied 
them their luck, and were snugly ensconced in the 
day coach, as the little road had no sleeping cars, 
and even if they had the frequent changes they 
had to make would have made a sleeper not worth 
while. As it was, they slept in snatches, had luck 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


13 


in their connections, and about an hour before 
dawn stepped off the train at the little station of 
Martinsville. 

Both Baseball Joe and Jim Barclay had expected 
to find the town asleep, but were surprised to find 
a large number of the inhabitants, chiefly the 
younger men, at the station. Still another group 
stood in the lighted doorway of Hank Bixby’s 
garage, which was directly across the street. 

“What’s the big idea?” Jim asked Joe, a9 he 
looked in surprise at the crowd that drew close 
about them. 

“Blest if I know,” replied Joe. “Maybe there’s 
been a fire or something.” 

But they were soon enlightened, as Hank came 
bustling across the street, his face aglow with wel¬ 
come and self-importance. 

“Howdy, Mr. Matson!” he exclaimed, as he 
wrung Joe’s hand. 

“Mr. Matson!” laughed Joe, returning the 
handshake. “Where do you get that stuff? 
What’s the matter with Joe?” 

“Well, Joe, then,” beamed Hank. “You see, 
Joe, you’ve got to be such a big fellow now, known 
all over the United States, that I felt a bit shy 
about calling you by your first name. I got your 
wire and mentioned it to a fellow or two, and by 
heck it was all over town in no time that the great¬ 
est pitcher in the country was going to be here. 


i 4 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

This crowd’s been waiting here all night to say 
howdy to you.” 

The people were all crowding around him by 
now, waiting their turn to shake hands, and Joe, 
although embarrassed, as he always was when he 
found himself the center of attention, did his best 
to respond to the expressions of good will and 
admiration that were showered upon him. Jim 
also came in for his share of the crowd’s interest 
as a promising and rapidly rising pitcher of the 
baseball champions of the world. It was with a 
sigh of relief that they settled themselves at last 
in the speedy car which Hank had provided for 
them and which he proudly assured them would 
“just burn up the road” between Martinsville and 
Riverside. 

Joe took the wheel and the car started off, amid 
a waving of hands and a roar of farewell from the 
crowd. 

“Great day for Martinsville,” said Jim mis¬ 
chievously, as he settled down by the side of his 
chum and the car purred along over the level road. 
“How does it feel to be a hero, Joe?” 

“Quit your kidding,” replied Joe, with a grin. 
“If they’d wrung this old wing of mine much 
more, McRae would have been minus one of his 
pitchers.” 

“One of the penalties of greatness,” chaffed 
Jim. 


A DANGEROUS PLUNGE 


15 

“And now for home!” exulted Joe, as he put on 
added speed and the car leaped forward. 

“And Clara,” murmured Jim under his breath, 
as he thought of Joe’s charming sister. 

Joe did not hear him, for his thoughts were 
engrossed with Mabel, the girl who had promised 
to marry him and who he fondly hoped might be 
at this moment dreaming of him, as without her 
knowledge he was speeding toward her. She had 
been visiting at his father’s home as the guest of 
his sister Clara. Since their trip together around 
the world the two girls had become almost insepa¬ 
rable, and Mr. and Mrs. Matson already regarded 
Mabel as a second daughter. 

The day for the marriage of Joe and Mabel 
had not yet been set, but Joe was determined $hat 
it should take place soon, and he hoped that now 
he would be able to get Mabel to set a definite 
date for that happy event. 

Jim, too, had his dreams, and they all centered 
about Clara. He had fallen desperately in love 
with her at their first meeting, and he had made up 
his mind that on this visit he would ask the all- 
important question, on the answer to which his 
happiness depended. 

The car dashed along at rapid speed, and as 
they came near Hebron Joe roused himself from 
his reverie. The darkness was disappearing, and 
in the faint light of the spring morning they could 


16 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

see a steep hill a little way ahead. At the side of 
the road ran a little river, of whose murmur they 
had been conscious for some time, although in the 
darkness they could scarcely see it. 

“Here’s where we’ll see whether Hank was 
bragging overmuch about this car,” remarked Joe, 
as he tightened his grasp on the wheel and put his 
foot on the accelerator. “I’ll give her a good start 
and see how she can climb.” 

The car gathered speed as it neared the bottom 
of the hill. Joe peered forward, and then from 
his lips came a startled shout. 

Directly in front of them, completely blocking 
the road, was a mass of heavy timbers. To strike 
them at that speed meant maiming or death! 

At one side of the road was a steep cliff. On the 
other side was the river. 

Joe’s brain worked like lightning. There was 
but one chance. He swung the wheel around, the 
car crashed through a fence at the side of the road, 
suddenly stopped short, and Joe and Jim were sent 
headlong into the river! 


CHAPTER II 


A SURPRISE 

The water was icy and deep, and at this point 
the current was swift. The force with which 
the luckless occupants of the car had been pro¬ 
pelled sent them far beneath the surface and some 
distance out into the stream. 

A moment later their heads appeared above the 
water, and they struck out for the shore. Both 
were strong swimmers, and in a few strokes they 
reached the bank. Fortunately they had escaped 
striking any part of the car in their wild hurtling 
through space, and apart from the chill and wet¬ 
ting were unharmed. 

From the mud at the river’s edge, they dragged 
their dripping feet to the solid ground of the road. 
Then they stood still and looked at each other. 
The shock and suddenness of it all still affected 
them, but as they continued to look at the comical 
figure that each presented, with hair plastered 
over their faces and clothes clinging to their 
bodies, their sense of the ludicrous got the better 
of them and they burst into laughter. 

17 


18 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“Talk about scarecrows!” gurgled Jim, as he 
dragged a wet handkerchief from his pocket and 
mopped his face in a vain attempt to dry it. 

“None of them have anything on us,” admitted 
Joe, as he threw off his coat and wrung one drip¬ 
ping trousers leg after the other. 

“If only the team could get a snapshot of us 
now, they’d kid us for the rest of our natural 
lives,” remarked Jim. 

“You said it,” agreed Joe. “But now,” he 
added more soberly, “just let’s take a look at what 
it was that so nearly killed us or crippled us for 
life.” 

They made their way to the mass of timber in 
the road. At first Jim thought that it might have 
fallen off some wagon, unknown to the driver. 
But a closer examination showed that this was an 
error. The timbers were piled in a way that could 
have been done only by human hands, and what 
made this certain was the fact that rocks had been 
placed on either side to prevent the logs from slip¬ 
ping. It was a formidable barrier, and if the car 
had dashed into it at the rate it was going, the 
occupants would almost certainly have been killed. 

“Whoever put those timbers there meant 
harm,” said Joe solemnly, when the examination 
had been completed. 

“It looks that way,” agreed Jim. “Whoever 
did it was a scoundrel who ought to be in jail.” 


A SURPRISE 


19 


“It might have been the work of a crazy man,” 
suggested Joe. 

“As crazy as a fox,” rejoined Jim, looking 
squarely into his chum’s eyes. 

“What do you mean?” asked Joe, in some per¬ 
plexity. 

“I mean,” said Jim, carefully weighing every 
word, “that the man who put that mass of timber 
there was just as sane as you or I. I mean that he 
intended that some one should be seriously hurt. 
I’ll go even further. That map meant to injure 
Joe Matson, whom he hated with a deadly 
hatred.” 

“You mean that Braxton did it?” cried Joe. 

“I mean that Braxton did it,” replied Jim 
quietly. 

They stared at each other with strange emotions 
stirring in their hearts. And while they stand 
there, as if turned to stone, it may be well, for the 
benefit of those who have not read the earlier 
volumes of this series, to trace the fortunes of 
Baseball Joe up to the time that this story opens. 

Joe Matson was born in a little inland village of 
the Middle West, and grew up in a pleasant home 
amid wholesome surroundings. His first experi¬ 
ence in the great national game, where he was des¬ 
tined to become famous as the greatest pitcher of 
his time, was gained on the simple diamond of his 
home town, and his natural aptitude was such that 


20 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

he soon became known as a rising player all over 
the county. What obstacles he met and sur¬ 
mounted at that time are related in the first volume 
of the series, entitled: “Baseball Joe of the Silver 
Stars.” 

Some time later, when playing on his school 
nine, he had considerable trouble with a bully who 
tried to down him, but found out, as so many 
trouble makers did later on in life, that Joe Mat- 
son was not easily downed. He put into his play¬ 
ing all that experience, combined with his native 
ability, could teach him, and he served an appren¬ 
ticeship that stood him in good stead when later 
he went to Yale. The trials and triumphs of his 
school experience are told in the second volume of 
the series, entitled: “Baseball Joe on the School 
Nine.” 

With the natural buoyancy of youth, Joe had 
hoped when he entered Yale that he would have a 
chance to show his mettle in the box in some of 
the great annual games that Yale played with 
Harvard and Princeton. There were many rivals, 
however, for the honor, including those who had 
already won their spurs in actual contests. But 
Joe’s light was not made to shine under a bushel, 
and one day when the cohorts of Princeton came 
down in their orange and black prepared to “tie 
the can” to the Bulldog’s tail, Joe got his chance 
and sent a very bedraggled Tiger back to his lair 


A SURPRISE 


21 


in Princeton. How Joe won gloriously is told in 
the third volume of the series, entitled: “Baseball 
Joe at Yale.” 

Though he enjoyed his college days at Yale, 
stood high in his studies, and was popular with his 
mates, he felt that he was not cut out for one of 
the learned professions. His mother had hoped 
that he would be a clergyman and had been urgent 
in having him adopt that profession. But Joe, 
though he respected the noble aims of that calling, 
was not drawn to it. It was the open air life that 
he craved and for which he was fitted, and the 
scholastic calm of a study had little attraction for 
him. He felt that he had it in him to win suprem¬ 
acy in athletic fields. 

His mother, of course, was greatly disappointed 
when she learned how he felt, but she was too wise 
to insist on her plan when she realized that it was 
contrary to his special gifts. She knew very little 
about baseball, but she had the impression that it 
was no place for an educated man. The fact, 
however, that so many college men were entering 
the ranks of professional baseball was made the 
most of by Joe, and she finally yielded to his 
wishes. 

His chance was not long in coming, for he was 
soon picked up by one of the scouts who are always 
looking for “diamonds in the rough,” and was 
offered a contract with the Pittston team of the 


22 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Central League. The League was a minor one, 
but Joe had already learned that a man who 
proved that he had the makings of a star in him 
would soon have an opportunity with one of the 
majors. How speedily his ability was proved and 
recognized is narrated in the fourth volume of the 
series, entitled: “Baseball Joe in the Central 
League.” 

From the bushes to the National League was a 
big jump, but Joe made it when he was drafted 
into the ranks of the St. Louis Cardinals. The 
team was in the second division when Joe came into 
action, and was altogether out of the running for 
the championship. But Joe’s twirling was just 
what it needed to put new heart and life into it, 
and before the season ended it had climbed into 
the first division and if the race had been a little 
longer might have made a big stroke for the pen¬ 
nant. The story of the team’s climb, with all its 
exciting episodes, is told in the fifth volume of the 
series, entitled: “Baseball Joe in the Big League.” 

McRae, the crafty and resourceful manager of 
the New York Giants, had had his eye on Joe all 
the season, and when the race was ended he made 
an offer for him that the St. Louis management 
could not refuse. Now, indeed, Joe felt that the 
ambition of his life was in a fair way to be real¬ 
ized. McRae had intended to bring him along 
slowly, so that he could be thoroughly seasoned, 


A SURPRISE 


23 


but circumstances put on him the heft of the pitch¬ 
ing, and how fully he justified his manager’s con¬ 
fidence is narrated in the sixth volume of the series, 
entitled: ‘‘Baseball Joe on the Giants.” 

After the winning of the National League 
Championship by the Giants, came the World 
Series with the Boston Red Sox, who had won the 
title that year in the American League. The Sox 
were a hard team to beat, and the Giants had their 
work cut out for them. In addition to the strain 
of the games in which he was slated to pitch, Joe 
had to contend with the foul tactics of a gang of 
gamblers who had wagered heavily on the Sox and 
did all they could to put Joe out of action. But 
his indomitable will and quick wit triumphed over 
all obstacles, and his magnificent pitching in the 
last game of the series won the World’s Cham¬ 
pionship for the Giants. The story of that stirring 
fight is told in the seventh volume of the series, 
entitled: “Baseball Joe in the World Series.” 

During these experiences, Joe had not escaped 
the toils of Cupid. Mabel Varley, a charming 
young girl, had been rescued by Joe at the moment 
that a runaway horse was about to carry her over 
a cliff. The romantic acquaintanceship thus begun 
soon grew into a deep affection, and Joe knew that 
Mabel held the happiness of his life in her hands. 
Jim Barclay, also, a promising young Princeton 
man and second string pitcher for the Giants, who 


24 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


was Joe’s special chum, had grown very fond of 
Clara, Joe’s pretty sister, and hoped that some day 
she would promise to be his wife. 

The World Series had scarcely ended before 
Joe and Jim were invited by McRae to make a trip 
around the world with the Giant and All-Ameri¬ 
can teams. They were eager for the chance, and 
their delight was increased when it developed that 
there were to be a number of wives of the players 
in the party so that Mabel and Clara could go 
along. 

The teams played in Japan, in China, and in 
many of the cities of Europe, and the experience 
would have been a thoroughly happy one for Joe, 
had it not been for the machinations of men who 
were trying to form a rival league and had by the 
meanest trickery secured Joe’s signature to what 
afterward turned out to be a contract. How Joe 
finally unmasked the plotters and had the satisfac¬ 
tion of giving the ringleader a tremendous thrash¬ 
ing is narrated in the preceding volume of the 
series, entitled: “Baseball Joe Around the 
World.” 

And now to return to Joe and Jim, as they stood 
in their dripping clothes on the country road in 
the growing light of the spring morning. 

For some seconds after Jim’s startling state¬ 
ment, Joe stood as though rooted to the spot. 
Then he pulled himself together. 


A SURPRISE 


25 


“Come now, Jim, isn’t that pretty far-fetched?” 
he said, with a forced laugh, in which, however, 
there was little mirth. “You haven’t a shred of 
proof of anything of the kind.” 

“No,” admitted Jim, “there isn’t anything— 
yet—that would convince a judge or a jury. I’ll 
agree that it wouldn’t go far in a court of law. 
But just put two and two together. Yesterday 
afternoon we were talking about this trip. You 
distinctly mentioned the hill near Hebron. It was 
just after you spoke that I saw Braxton pass the 
door.” 

“Thought you saw,” corrected Joe. 

“All right, then,” said Jim patiently, “let it go 
at that—thought I saw Braxton passing the door. 
Now just suppose for a minute that I was right 
and see what comes of it. The man who hates 
you worse, probably, than any man on earth— 
the man to whom you gave a terrible thrashing— 
knew that you would be driving a car just before 
daylight—knew that you would have to climb a 
hill—knew that as you got near it you’d probably 
put on speed to carry the car up—knew that an 
obstacle put near the bottom of the hill would 
almost certainly wreck the car and hurt the driver. 
Knowing all his, might not such a man as we know 
Braxton to be see his chance and take it?” 

There was silence for a moment. Then: 

“It certainly sounds strong the way you put it,” 


26 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Joe said thoughtfully. “But how on earth could 
Braxton get here in time to do all this ? Think of 
the distance.” 

“It isn’t so great a distance,” rejoined Jim. 
“That is, if a man came straight across country in 
a speedy car for instance. It seemed long to us 
because of the roundabout way we had to go by 
train. Then too that was early in the afternoon, 
and Braxton could have had four hours’ start of 
us. He’s a rich man and probably has a fast car. 
He could have made it all right and got here hours 
ago. 

“Yes, but even then,” argued Joe, “he couldn’t 
have done it all alone. It’s as much as you and I 
can do together to handle these timbers.” 

“That’s true,” conceded Jim. “But he may 
have had one or more confederates with him. 
Money you know can do almost anything. I 
shouldn’t wonder if that fellow Fleming helped 
him. He owed you a debt too, you remember, and 
the pair were as thick as thieves on the world 
tour.” 

“Well, it may be just as you say,” replied Joe. 
“But I hate to think that any man hates me so 
badly as to try to injure me in such a cowardly way 
as that. At any rate, it won’t do any harm for us 
to keep our eyes open in the future. But we’ve 
got plenty of time to think of that. Now let’s get 
busy and hustle these timbers over to the side of 


A SURPRISE 


27 


the road so that nobody else can run into tlrem. 
Then we’ll take a look at the car.” 

They set to work with a will, and in a few 
minutes had removed the obstacles from the 
road. 

‘‘Now for the machine,” said Joe, as he led the 
way to the river bank. “I’ve got an idea that 
what we owe Hank will put a dent in our bank 
rolls.” 

To their delight they found, however, that, 
apart from superficial injuries, the car seemed to be 
intact. The wind shield had been shattered and 
the mud guards were badly bent. But the axles 
seemed to be sound, the wheels were in place, and 
as far as they could judge there had been no injury 
to the engine. To all appearances the expenditure 
of a hundred dollars would put the car in good 
shape again. 

But the wheels were so firmly imbedded in the 
mud of the shore that despite all their efforts they 
could not budge the car. They strained and 
pushed and lifted, but to no avail. Joe climbed 
into the driver’s seat and set the engine going, but 
the car was stubborn and refused to back. 

“Swell chance of our getting home in time for 
breakfast,” grumbled Joe, as he stopped to rest 
for a moment. 

“Lucky if we get there in time for supper,” 
muttered Jim. “We’ll have to go somewhere and 


28 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


borrow a shovel so that we can dig the wheels out 
of the mud.” 

But just at this moment they heard the rumbling 
of a cart, and running to the road they saw it com¬ 
ing, drawn by two stout horses, while the driver 
sat handling the reins in leisurely fashion. 

They waved their hands and the cart came to 
a halt, the driver scanning curiously the two young 
men who had appeared so unexpectedly from the 
side of the road. He was a bluff, jovial person, 
and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he noted 
the wet garments that were clinging to their limbs. 

“Been taking a bath with all your clothes on?” 
he asked, as he got down from his seat. 

“Something like that,” replied Joe, with a 
laugh, “but the bath came as a sort of surprise 
party. The road was blocked, and it was either 
the morgue or the river for us, so we chose the 
river.” 

“Road blocked?” repeated the newcomer, look¬ 
ing about with a puzzled expression. “I don’t get 
you. Looks clear enough to me.” 

“It wouldn’t if you’d been here half an hour 
ago,” replied Joe, and then, as the man listened 
with interest that soon changed to indignation, he 
recounted briefly the events of the morning. 

“Whoever did that ought to be jailed,” he burst 
out, when the boys had concluded their story. 
“And he can’t be very far away, either. This 


A SURPRISE 


29 


road was clear when I passed over it last night. 
Jump in and I’ll drive you into town and we can 
send out an alarm.” 

“Not much use of that I’m afraid,” replied Joe. 
“The man or men may be fifty miles away by this 
time. But if you’ll give us a hand to get this auto 
out of the mud, you’ll do us a big favor.” 

“Sure I’ll help you,” said the friend in need, 
whose name they learned was Thompson. “I’ve 
got a spade right here in the cart. We’ll dig 
around the wheels a little. Then I’ll hitch a trace 
chain to the machine and my horses will yank it 
out in a jiffy.” 

A few minutes of work sufficed to clear the 
wheels. Then boards were placed behind them, 
the chain was attached to the rear axle, and the 
horses drew the car back into the road. 

It presented rather a forlorn appearance, but 
the boys cared little for that. What they were far 
more concerned about was their own bedraggled 
condition. 

“We match the car all right,” remarked Jim 
disgustedly, as he looked at his own clothes and 
those of his companion. 

“It will never do to let Mabel and Clara see us 
like this,” responded Joe lugubriously. 

“Don’t let that worry you,” laughed their new 
friend. “Just drive into town and stop at Eph 
Allen’s tailor shop. It’s pretty early, but Eph 


30 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

sleeps in the back of his shop and he’ll let you in 
and fix you up in no time.” 

This was evidently the best thing to be done, 
and the young men, after repeated thanks to their 
newly made friend and with fullest directions as 
to how to find the tailor shop in question, jumped 
into the auto and started on the way back to 
Hebron. 

“Old bus seems to work as well as ever,” com¬ 
mented Joe, as the car moved on without any visi¬ 
ble evidence of injury. 

“That’s one bit of good luck,” replied Jim. 
“And it’s certainly coming to us to make up in 
part for the bad.” 

They thanked their stars that it was too early 
yet for many people to be stirring in the town, and 
were relieved when they found themselves in front 
of Allen’s shop. Eph must have been a pretty 
sound sleeper, for it took a good deal of knocking 
to wake him up, and when at last he thrust his 
tousled head through the door to ask what was 
wanted, he was not in the best of temper. But as 
soon as he learned the circumstances that had occa¬ 
sioned the early call, he became at once all inter¬ 
est and attention, and hustled about to put their 
clothes in presentable shape. 

It was a fairly good job that he at length turned 
out after he had ironed and pressed their suits, 
though they had by no means the Beau Brummel 


A SURPRISE 


3 i 


effect with which the boys had planned to impress 
the girls. 

By this time the sun had fully risen and Joe 
looked at his watch. 

“Perhaps we’ll be in time to catch them at 
breakfast yet,” he remarked. “It’s only about 
twenty miles from here to Riverside. Maybe they 
won’t be surprised when we break in on them. 
They don’t think we’re within several hundred 
miles of them.” 

“Perhaps we ought to have telegraphed that we 
were coming,” said Jim. 

“It might have been just as well, I suppose,” 
admitted Joe. “But that would have taken away 
the fun of the surprise. I want to see the look on 
their faces.” 

“Of course we won’t say anything about what 
happened to us this morning,” suggested Jim, as 
the machine bowled along over a road that with 
every minute that passed was growing more 
familiar. 

“Not on your life,” replied Joe earnestly. 
“None of them would ever have another easy 
minute. They’d be seeing our mangled remains 
every night in their dreams. All we’ll tell them is 
that we had a little spill and got wet. But not a 
word about the blocked road or what we suspect 
regarding Braxton.” 

Before long they were passing the straggling 


32 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

houses that marked the outskirts of Riverside. 
Joe pulled his cap down over his eyes so that he 
would not be recognized and stopped by any of the 
people of the town, where he was regarded as 
something of an idol. All he wanted to do was to 
get to his family and Mabel, or, as perhaps he 
would have put it, get to Mabel and his family. 

His ruse was successful, for there was no sign 
of recognition from the few he passed on the 
streets, and in a few minutes he brought the car 
to a stop in front of the Matson home. 

The young men jumped out, and with Joe lead¬ 
ing the way ran lightly up the steps. He tried the 
front door and found that it yielded to his touch. 
With his finger on his lips as a warning to Jim, 
he tiptoed softly through the hall to the door of 
the dining room. 

The odor of coffee and bacon came to them and 
from the click of plates and cups, as well as the 
murmur of several voices, they knew that the 
family was still at the breakfast table. 

Joe waited no longer but threw open the door. 

“Hello, folks!” he cried. 



THERE WAS NO DOUBT OF THE WARMTH OF THAT WELCOME. 
‘‘Baseball Joe, Home Run King.” 


Rage 33 










V. 




































































- 

1 





' ' 























CHAPTER III 


REGGIE TURNS UP 

If Joe had counted upon producing a surprise, 
his success surpassed his wildest expectations. 

At first there was a second of paralyzed silence. 
Then there was a wild hubbub of delighted cries, 
as four figures started up from the table and 
launched themselves upon the stalwart figure that 
stood framed in the doorway. 

“Joe 1” “Mabel!” “Clara!” “Momsey!” 
“Dad!” “Jim!” The names were repeated in 
quick succession and were punctuated with hugs 
and kisses. 

In a moment Joe had his right arm around 
Mabel, his left about his mother, while Clara had 
thrown her arms about his neck and his father was 
attempting to get hold of one of his hands. There 
was no doubt of the warmth of that welcome. 

Nor was Jim left out in the cold. Joe naturally 
had the center of the stage, but after the first 
rapturous greeting had passed, they all made Jim 
feel how delighted they were that he had come 
33 


34 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

along with Joe. In Clara’s eyes especially there 
was a look that Jim hoped he read aright. Her 
flushed and sparkling face was alive with happi¬ 
ness that might not be due altogether to the return 
of her brother, dearly as she loved him. 

For a few minutes questions and answers fol¬ 
lowed close on each other’s heels, and it was Mrs. 
Matson at last who suggested that probably the 
boys were hungry. They agreed with her 
emphatically that they were. The girls flew about, 
and in a short time fresh coffee and hot biscuits 
and bacon and eggs were set before them in tempt¬ 
ing profusion. Then while they ate like famished 
wolves, the. others, who had been just finishing 
breakfast when they burst in upon them, sat about 
the table and talked and laughed and beamed to 
their hearts’ content. Perhaps in all the broad 
land there was no happier group than was gath¬ 
ered about that table in the little town of 
Riverside. 

‘‘You ought to have telegraphed that you were 
coming, Joe,” said Mrs. Matson. “Then we could 
have had a good breakfast ready for you.” 

“What do you call this?” laughed Joe, as he 
helped himself to another biscuit, watching at the 
same time the bewitching way in which Mabel was 
pouring him another cup of coffee. “There 
couldn’t be anything better than this this side of 
kingdom come.” 


REGGIE TURNS UP 


35 


“You’re right there, old man,” observed Jim, 
his own appetite keeping pace with that of his 
chum. 

“Seems to me, Joe, that your clothes look a little 
seedy this morning,” Clara remarked, with a 
sister’s frankness, during a moment’s pause in the 
conversation. “The last time you came home you 
looked like a fashion plate. But now your shirt 
front is wrinkled, your collar is wilted, and the 
colors in your necktie have run together. Looks 
as though you’d got wet through and hadn’t dried 
out yet.” 

“Perhaps they’ve been in the river,” laughed 
Mabel gaily, little thinking how near she came to 
hitting the nail on the head. 

Mrs. Matson’s motherly heart was quick to take 
alarm. 

“What’s that?” she asked. “Nothing really 
has happened to you, has it, Joe?” she inquired, 
looking anxiously at her son, who after one glare 
at the sister who had precipitated the topic, was 
trying to assume an air of nonchalance. 

But this direct inquiry from his mother left him 
no recourse except to tell her a part of the truth, 
though not necessarily the whole truth. 

“We did have a little spill this morning,” he 
returned indifferently. “I turned the car a little 
too much to the right and we w T ent through a fence 
and into a little stream at the side of the road. 


36 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Jim and I got wet, but after we got over being 
mad we had a good laugh over it. Neither one of 
us was a bit hurt, and it’s only our clothes that got 
the worst of it.” 

“Oh, but you might have been killed!” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Matson, clasping her hands to¬ 
gether nervously. “You must be more careful, 
Joe. It would break my heart if anything hap¬ 
pened to you.” 

“Don’t worry a bit, Momsey,” replied Joe, 
placing his hand affectionately over hers. “Only 
the good die young, you know, and that makes 
me safe.” 

They all pressed him for the details of the acci¬ 
dent, and he and Jim both made light of it, making 
a joke out of their plight and their visit to the 
tailor, so that apprehension vanished, and after a 
while the matter was dropped. 

Joe was eager for a chance to get alone with 
Mabel, and Jim was quite as keen for a tete-a-tete 
with Clara. The girls were quite as eager, but as 
there was no servant in the simple little household 
the girls flew around to clear the table, while Joe 
had a chance for a quiet talk with his mother, and 
Jim beguiled his impatience by going out on the 
porch with Mr. Matson for a smoke before the 
latter had to go downtown to business. 

“How have you been feeling, Momsey?” Joe 
asked when they had settled down in a cosy corner 


REGGIE TURNS UP 


37 


of the living room. “It seems to me that you’re 
a little thinner than you were.” 

“I’m not feeling any too well,” replied Mrs. 
Matson. “I have trouble with my breathing 
whenever I go up or down stairs. But I’ll be all 
right pretty soon,” she added, with an attempt at 
brightness. 

“I’m afraid you’ve been working too hard, 
Momsey,” replied Joe, patting her hand. “Why 
don’t you let me get you a maid to help out with 
the work? The money doesn’t matter, and you 
know how glad I’d be to bear the expense.” 

“I don’t want any regular servant, Joe,” 
replied Mrs. Matson. “I haven’t been used to one, 
and she’d be more bother than help. We have a 
wash woman. There isn’t much to be done in this 
little house, and Clara is the dearest girl. If I 
did what she wanted, I’d just fold my hands and 
sit around in the living room. And Mabel, too, 
has spoiled me since she’s been here. She’s already 
like a second daughter to me.” 

“She’ll be really your daughter before long, if 
I have anything to say about it,” replied Joe. 
“I’m going to put it right up to her to marry me 
while I’m here this time.” 

Mrs. Matson was both delighted and flustered 
at the boldness of this announcement. 

“You take my breath away, talking like that,” 
she replied, “But I’m afraid Mabel won’t let her- 


3 8 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

self be carried off her feet in that way. A girl 
wants to get her trousseau ready. And then, too, 
she’ll want to be married in her father’s house. 
You’re a dear boy, Joe, but you’ve got a lot to 
learn about women.” 

“Mabel will agree all right,” replied Joe con¬ 
fidently, though his masculine assurance had been 
slightly dashed by his mother’s prediction. 

The opportunity to make sure about that im¬ 
portant matter came a few minutes later, when 
Mabel came into the room looking more lovely, 
Joe thought, than he had ever seen her before. 
Mrs. Matson lingered only a moment longer, and 
then made an excuse to leave the room. The door 
had hardly closed behind her before Mabel was 
in Joe’s arms. 

It was a long time before they were able to talk 
coherently, and when at last Mabel told Joe that 
he was too greedy and laughingly bade him be 
sensible, she was more rosy and beautiful than 
ever, and Joe was deeper in love than before, if 
that could be possible. 

Joe was not long in putting his mother’s pre¬ 
diction to the test. 

“Do you remember what Jim said when we said 
good-by to McRae after the World Tour was 
over?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eye. 

The flush in Mabel’s cheeks deepened. 

“Jim talks so much nonsense,” she countered. 


REGGIE TURNS UP 


39 


“Think a minute.” Joe was jogging her 
memory. “Wasn’t it something about bells?” 

“How should I remember?” asked Mabel, 
though she did remember perfectly. 

“Well, I remember,” said Joe. “He said I’d 
soon be hearing wedding bells. Now do you 
remember?” 

“Y-yes,” admitted Mabel at last, hiding her 
face on Joe’s shoulder, which was very close to 
her. 

“I want to hear those wedding bells, very soon, 
dearest,” said Joe tenderly. “Next week—this 
week—to-morrow-” 

Mabel sat up with a little scream. 

“Next week—this week—to-morrow!” she re¬ 
peated. “Why, Joe dear, we can’t!” 

“Why can’t we?” asked Joe with masculine 
directness. 

“Why—why-—we just can’t,” replied Mabel. 
“I haven’t got my wedding clothes ready. And 
I’ll have to be married in my own home. What 
would my family think? What would my friends 
think? It would look like a runaway affair. 
People would talk. Oh, Joe dear, I’d love to, but 
I just can’t. Don’t you see I can’t?” 

Joe did not see at all, and he renewed his im¬ 
portunities with all his powers of persuasion. But 
Mabel, though she softened her refusal with 
lover-like endearments, was set in her convictions, 



40 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


and Joe at last was forced to confess in his heart 
with a groan that his mother was right, and that 
he had a lot to learn about women. 

He suggested in desperation that they go on at 
once to her home in Goldsboro and be married 
there, but although that would have taken away 
one of her arguments, the others still continued 
in full force, and she added another for good 
measure. 

“You see, Joe, dear, your mother isn’t well 
enough just now to travel so far, and it would 
break her heart if she weren’t present at our mar¬ 
riage. By fall she may be better.” 

“By fall!” echoed Joe in dismay. “Have I got 
to wait that long?” 

“I think it would be better, dear,” said Mabel 
gently. “You see if we got married any time after 
the baseball season' had commenced, you would 
find it hard to get away from your club. In any 
case, our honeymoon trip would have to be very 
short. Then, too, if I traveled about the circuit 
with you, you’d have me on your mind, and it 
might affect your playing. But I promise you that 
we shall get married in the fall, just as soon as 
the baseball season is over.” 

And as she sealed this promise in the way that 
Joe liked best, he was forced to be content. 

The days passed by, as though on wings, with 
Joe grudging every minute as it passed that 


REGGIE TURNS UP 


4i 


brought him nearer to the day when he would 
have to rejoin his team. The hours were precious 
and he spent every one of them that he could with 
Mabel. 

Jim, too, was finding his vacation delightful. 
He was getting on famously with Clara, and the 
latter’s heart was learning to beat very fast when 
she heard the step and saw the face of the hand¬ 
some young athlete. The prospects were very good 
that two weddings would be celebrated in the fall, 
and that Baseball Joe would gain not only a wife 
but a brother-in-law. 

During that week the moon was at its full, and 
almost every night saw the two couples out for a 
stroll. They would start out from the house to¬ 
gether and walk down the village street, with only 
a few yards separating them. However, they 
usually lost sight of each other before they had 
gone far. 

Joe was happy, supremely happy. Mabel had 
never been so dear, so affectionate. He knew that 
he possessed her heart utterly. Yet there was a 
faint something, a mysterious impression to which 
he could scarcely give a name, that at times 
marred his happiness and caused him to feel de¬ 
pressed. He chased the feeling away, and yet it 
returned. 

There were moments when Mabel grew quiet 
and seemed as though brooding over something. 


42 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Her face would become sad, and only brighten 
with a gayety that seemed a little forced, when she 
saw that he was studying her and seeking to learn 
what troubled her. At times she would cling to 
him as though she feared he was to be taken from 
her. Once or twice he questioned her, but she 
laughed his fears away and declared that there 
was nothing the matter. Despite her denials, he 
remained vaguely uneasy. 

The day before his brief vacation came to an 
end there was a ring at the bell of the Matson 
home. Mabel, who happened to be in the hall at 
the time, opened the door. There was an exclama¬ 
tion of surprise and delight as the newcomer threw 
his arms about her. 

“Reggie!” 

“Mabel!” 

There was a fond embrace, and then Mabel 
came into the living room where the family were 
assembled, while close behind her came Reggie 
Varley, her brother, the same old Reggie, monocle, 
cane, lisp, English clothes, English accent, fancy 
waistcoat, fitted in topcoat, spats and all—a vision 
of sartorial splendor! 


CHAPTER IV 


THE ANONYMOUS LETTER 

All rose to their feet in hearty welcome. It 
was not the first time Reggie had visited the Mat- 
son home, and all were fond of him. Joe and Jim 
especially gave him a hilarious greeting. 

“Hello, Reggie, old man,” cried Joe, as he 
shook hands. “I’m tickled to death to see you. 
What good wind blew you down this way? I 
didn’t think you were within a thousand miles of 
here.” 

“Well, old top,” explained Reggie, as he grace¬ 
fully drew off his gloves and divested himself of 
his topcoat, “it was so beastly quiet in Goldsboro, 
don’t y’know, that I got fed up with it and when 
the guv’nor suggested that there was a bit of busi¬ 
ness I could attend to in Chicago I just blew the 
bally town and ran out there. Then bein’ so 
near, I thought I’d run down and see Sis and the 
rest of you. It’s simply rippin’ to see y’all again, 
don’t y’know.” 

He sat down in a chair, carefully adjusting his 
trousers so as not to mar the creases in the legs, 
43 


44 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

and beamed blandly upon the friendly faces that 
surrounded him. 

Joe and Reggie had first met under rather un¬ 
pleasant circumstances, that bore no promise of a 
close friendship later on. Reggie had left his bag 
in a seat of a railroad station while he went to buy 
his ticket. Upon his return he missed his bag, 
which had been left in a seat adjoining the one in 
which Joe had in the meantime seated himself, and 
had practically accused Joe of taking it. As may 
be readily imagined, Joe was not the one to take 
lightly such an accusation, and Reggie had to 
apologize. It was only after Joe had met Mabel 
that he again encountered Reggie and learned that 
he was the girl’s brother. But apart from his 
relationship to Mabel, Joe had found further 
reason for liking Reggie, as time wore on and he 
became better acquainted with him. 

Reggie had never been restrained much by his 
father, who was rich and indulgent. He had an 
inordinate love of fine clothes and an affectation 
of English customs and manner of speech. But 
these, after all, were foibles, and at heart Reggie 
was “true blue.” He was a staunch friend, gener¬ 
ous, kindly and honorable. He idolized his 
charming sister, who in return was devotedly 
attached to him. 

Another thing that strengthened the friendship 
between Joe and Reggie was that they were both 


AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 


45 


ardent lovers of the great national game. Reggie 
was a “dyed-in-the-wool fan,” and though his gen¬ 
eral information was none too great he had the 
records of individual players and the history of 
the game at his tongue’s end, and could rattle on 
for an hour on a stretch when he once got started 
on his favorite theme. He was a great admirer 
of Joe as a player, and intensely proud that he was 
going to be his brother-in-law. Whenever the 
Giants played and Joe was slated to pitch, the lat¬ 
ter could be perfectly certain that Reggie, even if 
he chanced to be at the time in San Francisco, was 
“rooting” for him to win. 

Jim also had met Reggie frequently and liked 
him thoroughly. The other members of the Mat- 
son family liked him, both for Mabel’s sake and 
his own. So it was a very friendly circle into which 
Reggie had come so unexpectedly. 

“But I didn’t expect to see you two chaps here,” 
said Reggie, as he looked from Joe to Jim. “I 
thought you were down in the training camp, or 
else on your way to New York with the rest of the 
Giants.” 

“It was just a bit of luck that we are here,” 
replied Joe. “McRae thought that we were 
trained fine enough, and might go stale if we 
worked out in practice any longer. He wants us 
to be at the top of our form when the bell rings at 
the Polo Grounds.” 


46 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“Bally good sense, I call it, too,” replied 
Reggie, looking admiringly at their athletic forms. 
“Just now you look fit to fight for a man’s life, 
don’t y’know.” 

“Never felt better,” admitted Joe. “Nor hap¬ 
pier either,” he added, as he glanced at Mabel, 
who dropped her eyes before his ardent look. 

“You came just in time to see the boys,” put in 
Mrs. Matson. “They’re starting to-morrow for 
New York.” 

“Bah Jove, I’d like to go with them,” said 
Reggie. “I’d give a lot to see that opening game 
on the Polo Grounds. But this beastly business in 
Chicago will make it necessary for me to go back 
there in a few days. In the meantime I thought 
that perhaps you might put me up here for a little 
while, don’t y’know?” 

He looked toward Mr. Matson as he spoke, 
and both he and Mrs. Matson hastened to assure 
the young man that they would be only too glad 
to do so. 

All had a lot to talk about, and the evening 
passed quickly, until at last Mrs. Matson excused 
herself on the plea that she wanted to see about 
Reggie’s room. Mr. Matson soon followed, and 
the young people were left to themselves. 

“Well, what do you think the chances are of 
the Giants copping the flag again, old top?” asked 
Reggie, as he pulled down his cuffs and put up his 


AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 


47 

hand to make sure that his immaculate tie was all 
right. 

“The Giants look mighty sweet to me,” 
answered Joe. “They’ve had a good training 
season and shown up well in practice. They’ve 
won every game they’ve played with the minor 
leaguers so far, and haven’t had to exert them¬ 
selves. Of course that doesn’t mean very much in 
itself, as the bushers ought to be easy meat for us. 
But we’ve got practically the same team with 
which we won the pennant last year, and I can’t 
see why we shouldn’t repeat. Jim here has been 
coming along like a house afire, and he’ll make the 
fans sit up and take notice when they see him in 
action.” 

“Oh, I’m only an also ran,” said Jim modestly. 

“Indeed you’re not,” Clara started to say 
indignantly, but checked herself in time. Not so 
quickly, however, that Jim failed to catch her 
meaning and note the flush that rose to her cheek. 

“Funny thing happened when I was in Chi¬ 
cago,” mused Reggie. “I heard a chap say in one 
of the hotels that there was heavy betting against 
the Giants winning this year. Some one, he didn’t 
know who, was putting up cash in great wads 
against them, and doing it with such confidence 
that it almost seemed as though he thought he was 
betting on a sure thing. Taking ridiculous odds 
too. Queer, wasn’t it?” 


48 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“A fool and his money are soon parted,” re¬ 
marked Joe. “That fellow will be a little wiser 
and a good deal poorer when the season ends, or 
I miss my guess. Who’s going to beat us out? 
Nothing short of a train wreck can stop us.” 

“Now you’re talking!” cried Jim. 

“Another thing that’s going to help us,” said 
Joe, “was that trip we had around the world. We 
had some mighty hot playing on that tour against 
the All-Americans, and it kept the boys in fine 
fettle.” 

“Speaking about that trip, old chap,” put in 
Reggie, “reminds me of another thing that hap¬ 
pened in Chicago. I was going down State Street 
one afternoon, and almost ran into that Braxton 
that you handed such a trimming to over in 
Ireland.” 

“Braxton!” cried Joe. 

“Braxton!” echoed Jim. 

“Sure thing,” replied Reggie, mildly puzzled at 
the agitation that the name aroused in the two 
chums. “I’m not spoofing you. Braxton it was, 
as large as life. The bounder recognized me and 
started to speak, but I gave him the glassy eye and 
he thought better of it and passed on. Funny 
what a little world it is, don’t y’know.” 

“It surely is a little world,” replied Jim, as a 
significant glance passed between him and Joe. 

“I glanced back,” Reggie went on, “and saw 


AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 


49 


him getting into a car drawn up at the curb. As 
classy a machine as I’ve seen, too, for a long time. 
Built for speed, y’know. If he hadn’t driven off 
too quickly, I’d have made a note of the make. 
My own is getting rather old, and I’ve been think¬ 
ing about replacing it.” 

The conversation turned into other channels and 
finally began to drag a little. The others made 
no sign of being ready to retire, and at last Reggie 
woke to the fact that he would have to make the 
first move. He looked at his watch, remarked 
that he was rather tired after his journey, and 
thought that he would “pound the pillow.” 

Joe showed him to his room, chatted with him 
a few minutes, and then returned to the living 
room where he found Mabel alone, as Clara and 
Jim had drifted into the dining room. It was the 
last night the boys would have at home, and the 
two young couples had a lot to talk about. To Jim 
especially the time was very precious, for he had 
made up his mind to ask a very momentous ques¬ 
tion, and there is little doubt but that Clara knew 
it was coming and had already made up her mind 
how it should be answered. 

It was an exceedingly agitated Jim that asked 
Mr. Matson for a private interview the next 
morning, and it was an exceedingly happy Jim! 
that emerged from the room a few minutes later 
and announced to the family already seated at the 


50 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

breakfast table that Clara had promised to be his 
wife. There was a stampede from the chairs, to 
the imminent danger of the coffee being upset, 
and Clara was hugged and kissed by Mabel and 
hugged and kissed and cried over by her mother, 
while Jim’s hand was almost wrung off by Joe and 
Reggie in the general jubilation. For Jim was a 
splendid fellow, a Princeton graduate, a rising 
man in his chosen calling, and an all round good 
fellow. And there was no sweeter or prettier girl 
than Clara in all Riverside, or, as Jim stood ready 
to maintain, in the whole world. 

Needless to say that for the rest of that morn¬ 
ing Reggie and Joe had no other masculine society 
than each could furnish to the other, for Jim had 
shamelessly abandoned them. Soon Reggie, too, 
had to chum with himself, as Joe and Mabel had 
found a sequestered corner and seemed to be dead 
to the rest of the world. 

Just before noon, however, when Mabel had 
gone in to help Mrs. Matson to prepare lunch, Joe 
had a chance to talk with Reggie alone. 

“Mabel’s looking rippin’, don’t you think?” re¬ 
marked Reggie, as he caught a glimpse of his 
sister passing the door of the room in which they 
sat. 

“Most beautiful girl that lives,” returned Joe, 
with enthusiasm. 

“I guess she’s stopped worrying about-” 



AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 


5i 


began Reggie, and then checked himself as though 
he had said more than he intended to. 

“Worrying about what?” asked Joe, with the 
quick apprehension of a lover. 

“Oh, about—about things in general,” replied 
Reggie, in some confusion and evading Joe’s 
searching eyes. 

“Look here, Reggie,” said Joe with decision. 
“If anything’s worrying Mabel, I’ve got a right 
to know what it is. I’ve noticed lately that she 
seemed to have something on her mind. Come 
now, out with it.” 

Reggie still tried to put him off, but Joe would 
have none of it. 

“I’ve got to know, Reggie,” he declared. 
“You’ve simply got to tell me.” 

Reggie pondered a moment. 

“Well, old top,” he said at last, “I suppose you 
have a right to know, and perhaps it’s best that 
you should know. The fact is that Mabel got a 
letter a little while ago telling her that it would 
be a sorry day for her if she ever married Joe 
Matson. Threatened all sorts of terrible things 
against you, don’t y’know.” 

“What!” cried Joe, wild with rage and leaping 
to his feet. “The scoundrel! The coward! Who 
signed that letter? What’s his name? If I ever 
lay my hands on him, may heaven have mercy on 
him, for I won’t!” 


52 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“That’s the worst of it,” replied Reggie. 
“There wasn’t any name signed to it. The 
bounder who wrote it took good care of that.” 

“But the handwriting!” cried Joe. “Perhaps 
I can recognize it. Where is the letter? Give it 
to me.” 

“I haven’t got it with me,” Reggie explained. 
“It’s at my home in Goldsboro. The poor girl 
had to confide in somebody, so she sent it to me. 
And even if you had it, it wouldn’t tell you any¬ 
thing. It was in typewriting.” 

“But the postmark!” ejaculated Joe. “Per¬ 
haps that would give a clue. Where did it come 
from?” 

“There again we’re stumped,” responded Reg¬ 
gie. “It was postmarked Chicago. But that 
doesn’t do us any good, for there are two million 
people in Chicago.” 

“Oh!” cried Joe, as he walked the floor and 
clenched his fists until the nails dug into his palms. 
“The beastliness of it! The cowardice of it! An 
anonymous letter! That such a villain should 
dare to torture the dearest girl in the world! But 
somewhere, somehow, I’ll hunt him out and thrash 
him soundly.” 

“Don’t take the beastly thing so much to heart,” 
returned Reggie. “Of course it’s just a bluff by 
some bally bounder. Nobody ought to do any¬ 
thing with such a letter but tear it up and think no 


AN ANONYMOUS LETTER 


53 


more about it. Some coward has done it that has 
a grudge against you, but he’d probably never 
have the nerve to carry out his threats.” 

“It isn’t that I care about,” answered Joe. 
“I’ve always been able to take care of myself. 
I’d like nothing better than to have the rascal 
come out in the open and try to make his bluff 
good. But it’s Mabel I’m thinking about. You 
know a woman doesn’t dismiss those things as a 
man would. She worries her heart out about it. 
So that’s what has been weighing on her mind, 
poor, dear girl. Oh, if I only had my hands on 
the fellow that wrote that letter!” 

And here he yielded again to a justified rage 
that was terrible to behold. It would have been 
a bad day for the rascally writer of that anony¬ 
mous letter if he had suddenly stood revealed in 
the presence of Joe Matson! 


CHAPTER V, 


“play ball!” 

Just then Mabel came in with her hands full of 
flowers that she meant to arrange for the table. 
She stopped short in consternation as she saw the 
thundercloud on Joe’s brow. For a moment she 
thought that he and Reggie had been quarreling. 

“Oh, Joe, what is it?” she asked in alarm. 

Joe looked at her lovingly and his brow cleared. 

“Nothing, honey,” he said, as he came up to her 
and slipped his arm around her. “It’s only that 
I’ve just found out from Reggie what it is that’s 
been worrying you.” 

Mabel shot a reproachful glance at Reggie, 
who looked a little embarrassed. 

“Joe got it out of me, Sis,” he explained. “Said 
he had a right to know and all that sort of thing, 
don’t y’know. And ’pon honor, Sis, I don’t know 
but what he’s right about it.” 

“Of course I’m right about it,” affirmed Joe. 
“There can’t be anything now that concerns Mabel 
that doesn’t concern me. Don’t you agree with 
me, dearest?” 


54 


PLAY BALL! 


55 


“I suppose so,” returned Mabel, as Joe drew 
her closer. “But, oh, Joe, I didn’t want to dis¬ 
tress you about it. I was afraid that it would 
weigh on your mind and affect your work this sea¬ 
son, and I knew how your heart was set on making 
a record. It was just for your sake, dearest, that 
I kept it to myself. Of course I would have told 
you sooner or later.” 

“Well, now Mabel, listen to me,” said Joe, as 
he placed a chair and sat down beside her. “I 
don’t know what fellow has done this. But who¬ 
ever he is, he is a coward as well as a rascal, and 
will never dare to carry out his threats against me. 
And even if he should, you know that I am per¬ 
fectly able to take care of myself. You know that 
others have tried to injure me, but I always came 
out on top. Fleming tried it; Braxton tried it, and 
you know what happened to them. Now what I 
want you to promise me is to banish this beastly 
thing entirely from your memory. Treat it with 
the contempt it deserves. Will you promise me 
this?” 

“I will promise, Joe,” answered Mabel. “I’ll 
try to forget that it ever happened.” 

“That’s the girl,” commended Joe. “And to 
set your mind at rest I’ll promise on my part to 
take especially good care of myself. That’s a 
bargain.” > 

But while Joe had secured the promise of Mabel 


56 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

to forget the letter, he had made no such promise 
himself, and he vowed that if he could ever get 
any trace of the writer of that letter he would give 
him the punishment he so richly deserved. 

The train Baseball Joe and Jim Barclay would 
take was to leave late that afternoon. 

Somehow general knowledge of that fact had 
got abroad, and the boys were dismayed, on reach¬ 
ing the station, to find that half the population of 
the little town had gathered there to say good-by 
and wish them luck. To many of the townspeople, 
Joe was a bigger man than the President of the 
United States. He had put Riverside “on the 
map,” and through the columns of the papers they 
followed his triumphs and felt that in a sense they 
were their own. 

Of course Joe appreciated this affectionate inter¬ 
est, but just at the moment all he wanted was to 
be alone with Mabel. He had already bidden his 
mother a loving farewell at the house, as she was 
not well enough to go to the station. Jim also had 
eyes and thoughts only for Clara. 

But there was no help for it, and they had to 
exchange greetings and good wishes with the 
kindly friends who clustered around them. At the 
last minute, however, the young folks had a chance 
to say a few words to each other, and what they 
did not have time to say was eloquent in their 
eyes. 


PLAY BALL! 


57 


The train moved off, and the boys leaned far 
out of the windows and waved to the girls as long 
as they were in sight. Then they settled back in 
their seats, and for a long time were engrossed in 
their thoughts. Usually they were full of chaff 
and banter, but to-day it was some time before 
they roused themselves from reverie and paid 
attention to the realities around them. 

It was after they had come back from the din¬ 
ing car after supper that Joe told Jim about his 
interview with Reggie and the anonymous letter. 
Jim’s wrath was almost as great as that which had 
shaken Joe himself. 

“And the worst of it is,” said Joe, “that there 
doesn’t seem the slightest chance of getting hold 
of the cowardly fellow that did it. You might as 
well look for a needle in a haystack.” 

“Yes,” agreed Jim, “that’s the exasperating 
feature of it. It may be the work of gamblers 
who have bet against the Giants and want to 
worry you so that you won’t pitch your best ball. 
Some of those fellows will do anything for money. 
Or it may have been done by some enemy who 
chose that way of striking in the dark.” 

“If it’s an enemy,” mused Joe, “that narrows it 
down. There’s old Bug9 Hartley, but I don’t 
think he has intelligence enough to write a letter. 
Then there’s Fleming, with whom I’m just about 
as popular as poison ivy. Add to that Braxton 


58 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


and a few old-time enemies, and you’ve about com¬ 
pleted the list.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past Braxton,” remarked Jim 
thoughtfully. “That fellow’s a rattlesnake. He 
wouldn’t stop at anything to get even with you.” 

“I hate to think he’d stoop as low as to try to 
strike me through a woman,” replied Joe. “But, 
by Jove!” he went on, as a thought struck him, 
“do you remember what Reggie said about meet¬ 
ing Braxton in Chicago? You know while we 
were on the trip he mentioned Chicago as his home 
town. And that letter had the Chicago post¬ 
mark.” 

“Oh, well, you couldn’t hang a yellow dog on 
that,” Jim replied. “But what struck me was what 
Reggie said about the speedy car that Braxton 
had. It must have been a mighty speedy car that 
got the fellow who laid that trap on the road from 
the training town to Hebron. Of course those 
things are only straws, of no value separately, 
though straws show which way the wind blows. 
One thing is certain. We’ve got to keep one man 
in our mind and guard against 'him. And that 
man’s name is Braxton.” 

They reached New York without incident the 
day before the opening game, and found the city 
baseball mad. The front pages of the news¬ 
papers had big headlines discussing the opening 
of the season. The sporting pages overflowed 


PLAY BALL! 


59 


with speculation and prophecy as to the way the 
different teams would shape up for the pennant 
race. In the street cars, in the subways, in the 
restaurants, in the lobbies of the theatres, when¬ 
ever men congregated, baseball was the subject of 
discussion. The long winter had made the popu¬ 
lace hungry for their favorite game. 

On the following day, the migration toward the 
Polo Grounds began long before noon. Every 
train was packed with eager, good-natured human¬ 
ity on its way to the game. By noon the bleachers 
were packed, and an hour before the game was 
scheduled to begin, every inch of the grandstands 
were packed to overflowing. 

The Bostons were to be the Giants’ opponents 
in the opening game. The team had finished 
poorly the year before, but many winter trades 
had strengthened the weak spots, and the spring 
training of the nine had been full of promise. A 
close game was looked for, with the chances favor¬ 
ing the Giants. 

McRae was anxious to win the opening game, 
and had selected Joe to “bring home the bacon.” 
Hughson’s arm was not yet in shape, and the pros¬ 
pects were that Joe would have to bear the heft 
of the pitcher’s burden if the Giants were to carry 
off the flag. 

Both teams were greeted with hearty cheers as 
they came out on the field. The Bostons as the 


60 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

visiting team, had the first chance at practice, and 
they uncovered a lot of speed in their preliminary 
work. Then the Giants took their turn in shoot¬ 
ing the ball across the diamond and batting long 
flies to the outfielders. 

The bell rang and the field was cleared, while 
a hush of expectation fell on the crowds. The 
blue-uniformed umpire stepped to the plate. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he bawled, “the bat¬ 
teries for to-day’s game are Albaugh and Menken 
for Boston, and Matson and Mylert for New 
[York. Play ball!” 


CHAPTER VI 


GETTING THE JUMP 

Neale, the heavy hitting center fielder of the 
Bostons, who led off in the batting order, came to 
the plate, swinging three bats. He discarded two 
of them and took up his position, after having 
tapped his heel for luck. 

Joe looked him over for a moment. Then he 
wound up and whipped one over the plate. It was 
a high fast one, and Neale swung at it, his bat 
missing the ball by fully three inches. 

“Strike one l” called the umpire, and the crowd 
roared in approval. It was an auspicious begin¬ 
ning. , 

The next one was wide, and Neale refused to 
“bite.” Again Joe tempted him with a bad one, 
and again Neale was too wary. The next ball was 
a swift incurve that broke so suddenly that it buf¬ 
faloed Neale completely. The lunge he made at 
it swung him round so that he almost lost his bal¬ 
ance, and he looked rather sheepish as Mylert, the 
burly catcher of the Giants, grinned at him. 

61 


62 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“Had that in my mitt before you swung at it,” 
taunted Mylert. “Gee, but you’re slow.” 

Neale glared at him, but made no reply and 
tightened his grip on the bat. 

This time Joe floated up a slow teaser that 
looked as big as a balloon as it sailed lazily for the 
plate. Neale, who w T as all set for a fast one, 
nearly broke his back reaching for it. 

“You’re out,” declared the umpire, while shouts 
and laughter came from the crowded stands, as 
Neale, flinging down his bat disgustedly, went 
back to the dugout. 

Kopf, the next man up, dribbled a slow one to 
the box that Joe had no trouble in getting to first 
on time. Mitchell lifted a towering fly that Ire¬ 
dell gobbled up without moving in his tracks. 

“Classy work, old man!” cried out Robbie, his 
face glowing with satisfaction, as Joe drew off his 
glove and came in to the bench. “The old wing 
seems to be working as well as ever.” 

The Giants did a little better in the first inning, 
though not well enough to chalk up a run. Curry 
started well by lining to center for a single, the ball 
just escaping Warner’s fingers, as he leaped into 
the air for it. Iredell tried to sacrifice, but the 
ball went too quickly to the pitcher, who turned 
and caught Curry at second. Iredell tried to get 
down on the first ball pitched, but Menken showed 
that his throwing arm was right and nipped him 


GETTING THE JUMP 63 

by three feet. Burkett lifted one between right 
and center that had all the earmarks of a home 
run, but Mitchell, by a great run, got to it with 
one hand and froze on to it. It was a remarkable 
catch, and the sportsmanlike New York crowd ap¬ 
plauded it as heartily as though it had been made 
by one of their favorities. 

“Highway robbery,” growled Burkett, who had 
almost reached second before the ball was caught, 
and was cherishing hopes of having knocked out 
the first home run of the season. 

It seemed clear that the Bostons were not to be 
trifled with, at least as far as their fielding was 
concerned, and the crowd settled down in expecta¬ 
tion of a close struggle. 

The second inning for the Bostons was short. 
Douglas sent up a pop fly to Willis at third. Bar¬ 
ber fouled to Mylert. Warner tapped a little one 
in front of the plate that Mylert heaved to first. 
Each had offered at the first ball pitched, so that 
only three balls had been thrown for the entire 
inning. 

The hard hitting that the Giants had done in the 
first session had resulted in nothing, but it had 
shown them that Albaugh could be hit, and they 
faced him with confidence when they next went to 
the bat. 

But Albaugh had braced in his short breathing 
spell, and he set the Giants down in short order. 


64 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

The best that Wheeler could do was to lift a high 
fly behind second that nestled comfortably in 
Douglas’ hands. Willis got to first base on an 
error by Warner, but Denton hit into a double 
play, Ellis to Douglas to Kopf, and the inning was 
over. 

In the third inning, the Bostons swung their bats 
in vain. Joe struck out Ellis, Menken and Al- 
baugh, one after the other. His fast ball shot 
over the plate as though propelled by a gun. It 
came so swiftly that the Boston batsmen either 
winced and drew back, or struck at it after the ball 
had passed. His outcurve had a tremendous 
break, and Mylert had all he could do to get it. 
It was a superb example of pitching, and Joe had 
to remove his cap in response to the thunderous 
applause of the stands. 

“Isn’t that boy a wonder, Mac?” asked Robbie 
in exultation. “He’s simply standing those fellows 
on their heads. They just can’t touch him.” 

“He’s the goods all right,” agreed the less 
demonstrative McRae. “But don’t let’s crow too 
loud. The game isn’t over yet by a long shot, and 
anything can happen in baseball.” 

Allen was the first man up in the Giants’ half, 
and he went out on a grasser to Warner, who got 
him at first by yards. It was Joe’s turn next. 

“Win your own game now, Joe,” said Jim, as 
his chum left the bench for the plate. “None of 


GETTING THE JUMP 65 

the other boys seem to be doing much. Show them 
one of the clouts you made at the training camp.” 

Joe grinned in reply and went to the plate. Al- 
baugh looked at him and thought he sensed an 
easy victim. He seldom had much trouble with 
pitchers. 

The first ball was wide and Joe let it go by. 
The second and third also went as balls. 

“Good eye, Joe,” sang out Robbie, who was 
coaching at third. “Make him put it over.” 

Albaugh now was “in a hole.” Three balls had 
been called on him, and he had to get the next one 
over the plate. He wound up carefully and sent 
over a swift straight one about waist high. 

Joe timed it perfectly and caught it near the end 
of his bat. The ball went on a line straight 
toward the right field stands. On and on it went, 
still almost in a line. Neale and Barber had both 
started for it from the crack of the bat, but it 
stayed so low and went so fast that it eluded them 
and struck just at the foot of the right field 
bleachers. 

Joe in the meantime was running like a deer 
around the bases, while his comrades leaped about 
and howled, and the crowds in the stands were on 
their feet and shouting like madmen. He had 
rounded second and was well on toward third 
before Neale retrieved the ball. He relayed it to 
'Douglas like a shot. By this time Joe had turned 


66 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


third and was dashing toward the plate. It was a 
race between him and the ball, but he beat the 
sphere by an eyelash, sliding into the rubber in a 
cloud of dust. 

For a few moments pandemonium reigned, as 
Joe, flushed and smiling, rose from the ground 
and dusted himself off while his mates mauled and 
pounded him and the multitude roared approval. 

“Jumping jimmy!” cried Jim, “that was a lalla- 
paloozer! It was a longer hit than you made off 
of me this spring, and that’s going some. And 
on a line too. I thought it was never going to 
drop.” 

“It was a dandy, Joe,” commended McRae, 
clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s only a pity 
that there weren’t men on bases at the time for 
you to bring in ahead of you. But we’ve broken 
the ice now, and perhaps the rest of the boys will 
get busy.” 

Albaugh was rather shaken by the blow, and 
gave Mylert his base on balls. Curry too was 
passed to first, advancing Mylert to second. The 
stage seemed set for more Giant runs, but Iredell 
hit a liner to Ellis who took it at his shoe tops and 
made a smart double play by getting it to second 
before Mylert could scramble back. 

Still the Giants were a run to the good, and as 
the fourth and fifth innings went by without a 
score that run began to look as big as a meeting 


6 ; 


GETTING THE JUMP 

house. Albaugh had stiffened up and was pitching 
superbly, while his mates were giving him splendid 
support. He mowed down the heavy batters of 
the Giants one after another, and McRae began 
to fidget about uneasily on the bench. One run 
was a slender margin, and he was intensely eager 
to win this first game, not only because of the 
enormous crowd that had turned out to see their 
favorites win, but because of the moral effect on 
his players of “getting the jump” on at least four 
of the other teams by winning the first game of the 
season. 

When Joe came to the bat for the second time, 
there was a short consultation between Albaugh 
and his catcher, in which the astute manager of 
the Braves, Sutton, joined. Then Albaugh delib¬ 
erately pitched four wild balls, and Joe trotted 
down to first. 

There was a chorus of jeers and catcalls from 
the crowds. 

“Got you rattled by that homer, did he?” 

“You’re a sport—I don’t think!” 

“Don’t blame you for being afraid to let him 
hit it!” 

“He’ll lose the ball next time!” 

“Crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after 
you!” 

But although it was not exactly sportsmanlike, 
it was within the rules of the game, and when 


68 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Mylert went out on a fly a moment later, making 
the third out and leaving Joe stranded at first, 
Albaugh took off his glove and waved it mock¬ 
ingly at his tormentors. 

In the sixth inning the Bostons took their turn 
at scoring. Kopf sent an easy grounder to Iredell, 
who ordinarily would have eaten it up. This 
time, however, he fumbled it for a moment, and 
then in his haste to make up for the mishap threw 
wild to first. Burkett made a great jump for it, 
but it went high over his head to the right field 
fence, and before Burkett could regain it Kopf 
was on third. Mitchell tried to bring him home, 
but his efforts resulted in a weak grounder along 
the third base line. It looked as though the ball 
would roll over the foul line, and Willis waited 
too long. It proved to be fair, and by this time 
Mitchell was legging it for second. Willis threw 
low and the ball hit the bag, bounding out into 
center field. Wheeler ran in and got it, making a 
superb throw to the plate. But it was too late, and 
both Kopf and Mitchell had scored, putting Bos¬ 
ton in the lead by two runs to one. 

Joe put on steam and struck out the next three 
batters. But the mischief had been done. Two 
miserable errors had given them as many unearned 
runs. Now all they had to do was to keep the 
Giants scoreless and the game would be won. 

Poor Iredell and Willis were disconsolate as 


6 9 


GETTING THE JUMP 

they came in to the bench and their discomfiture 
was not lessened by the tongue lashing that Mc¬ 
Rae gave them. Joe, too, might naturally have 
been angered at the wretched support accorded to 
him in a game where he was showing such airtight 
pitching, but he was too fair and generous to find 
fault with comrades for a blunder that all athletes 
make more or less often. 

“Never mind, boys,” he said to them in an 
undertone, as he sat beside them on the bench. 
“Just get busy with your bats and we’ll pull the 
game out of the fire yet.” 

Although the Giants made a desperate rally 
and in each of the next two innings got men on 
second and third, the score was unchanged and 
the game still “in the fire” when the eighth inning 
ended. Joe in the meantime had pitched with such 
effect that in the two innings not a man reached 
first. 

The ninth inning came, and the Giants took the 
field for the last time. 

“Now Joe,” said McRae, as the former picked 
up his glove to walk out to the box, “hold them 
down just for one more inning, and we’ll have a 
chance either to tie or win, if our boobs can wake 
up enough to do a little batting. The head of 
their batting order is coming up, but the way 
you’ve been pitching up to now they all look alike 
to you.” 


70 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


“I’ll pitch my head off if necessary,” Joe 
assured him. 

The twirling that Joe did in that last inning was 
phenomenal. His control of the ball was almost 
uncanny. It writhed and twisted about the bats 
like a snake. Neale, the slugger of the Braves, 
struck out on the first three balls pitched. Kopf 
lifted a foul that came down straight over the 
plate, where Mylert gathered it in. Mitchell 
drove the ball straight over Joe’s head, but the 
latter leaped high in the air and speared it with his 
gloved hand, while the stands rocked with 
applause. 

McRae gathered the Giants about him as they 
came in from the field. 

“Now you fellows listen to me,” he commanded. 
“You’ve got to cop this game. No excuses. 
You’ve got to. Show these bean-eaters where 
they get off. Make them look like thirty cents. 
Knock the cover off the ball. Go in and win!” 


CHAPTER VII 


STEALING HOME 

Willis was first to the bat, and he strode to the 
plate with blood in his eye. He was still smarting 
from the sharp words of the manager and was 
anxious for a chance to redeem himself. A hit 
would help to wipe out the memory of his error. 

The first ball was an outshoot that just cut the 
corner of the plate. Willis struck at it and missed. 
The next one was a straight ball about knee high. 
Willis gave it a resounding clout, and it soared 
out toward the flagpole in left field. 

Willis was off with the crack of the bat, footing 
it down to first, while a roar went up from the 
stands. It looked like a sure home run, and it was 
clear that the Boston left fielder could not get 
under it. The runner was well on his way to sec¬ 
ond before the ball touched the ground. 

“Foul ball!” called the umpire. 

There was a groan from the Giant rooters, and 
Robbie rushed from the dugout to protest. The 
umpire coldly waved him off. 

71 


72 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“I said foul and that settles it,” he declared, at 
the same time waving to Willis to come back to 
the plate. 

It was a very disgruntled Willis that complied, 
and he took up his bat mumbling something about 
“blind” and “robber.” 

“What’s that?” asked the umpire sharply. 

“Nothing,” growled Willis, as he squared him¬ 
self to meet the next ball. It was a bad one, and 
he let it go by. The next suited him, and he sent 
a sizzling grounder between second and third, on 
which he might have made a double, had he been 
quicker on his feet. But he was of the “ice 
wagon” type and had to be content with a single. 

Still it was a hit, and it put all the Giants on 
their toes in an instant. Their coachers at first and 
third began a chattering designed to rattle the 
pitcher. McRae hustled Denton out of the dug- 
out with directions to sacrifice. The latter did his 
best, but Albaugh pounced on the ball and shot it 
to second, putting Willis out. Douglas whipped 
the ball to first in an endeavor to complete a 
double play, but Denton beat the ball by a step. 

With one man out and the tail end of the Giant 
batting order coming up the outlook was decidedly 
gloomy. Hope revived, however, when Allen 
laced a single to left. It was a clean hit, but 
Mitchell ran in on it and fielded so smartly that 
Denton was held at second. 


STEALING HOME 


73 

With two men on bases, Joe came to the bat, 
while the great throng gave him an ovation. 

“Win your own game, Matson,” was shouted 
at him from thousands of throats. 

“Give the ball a ride!” 

“Another homer, Joe!” 

“Give the ball a passport and send it out of the 
country!” 

These and other encouraging cries greeted Joe 
as he waited for the ball. Albaugh looked at him 
with some apprehension. His respect for him as 
a batter had grown considerably since the begin¬ 
ning of the game. 

Joe refused to offer at the first ball, which was 
high and wide. Menken caught it and instead of 
returning it to the pitcher shot it down to second. 
-Denton had taken too long a lead off the base and 
was trapped. His first impulse was to slide back 
to the bag, but he saw that he was too late for that 
and set out for third. The whole Boston infield 
joined in running him down, and despite his doub¬ 
ling and twisting, he was run down and put out 
near third. During the fracas, Allen reached sec¬ 
ond, but this was poor consolation, for now two 
men were out. 

Albaugh grinned as he picked up the ball and 
stepped on the mound. Baseball Joe resolved to 
knock that grin off his face. 

The ball came toward the plate like a bullet. 


74 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Joe timed it perfectly, and poled a tremendous hit 
out toward center. 

“A homer! A homer!” yelled the crowd, wild 
with excitement. 

By the time Allen had galloped over the plate, 
Joe had rounded second, running like a frightened 
jackrabbit. But in the meantime, Mitchell, by a 
herculean effort, had managed to knock down the 
ball, after it had struck the ground and was speed¬ 
ing toward the fence. He straightened up and 
threw it in a line to third. It came plump into the 
waiting hands of the guardian of the bag. But 
Joe had already pulled up there, panting a little, 
but with his heart full of exultation. 

“Jumping Jehoshaphat, how that boy can hit!” 
cried McRae, while Joe’s comrades jigged about 
and threw their caps into the air. 

“As pretty a three-bagger as I ever saw,” de¬ 
clared Robson. “That ties the score anyway. 
Now if Mylert can only bring him in, the game’s 
ours.” 

Albaugh, though sore and enraged, still main¬ 
tained perfect control of the ball. Twice in suc¬ 
cession he sent it whizzing over the plate, and 
twice Mylert missed it by inches. Perhaps he was 
too anxious, but it was evident that his batting eye 
was off. 

Albaugh sensed this, and felt so Sure of his 
victim that he paid little attention to third. Sud- 


STEALING HOME 


75 


denly, as Albaugh began to wind up for his pitch, 
Joe darted down the line for the plate. A warn¬ 
ing cry from Menken and a roar from the crowd 
told Albaugh what was happening. He stopped 
his windup and threw to Menken, who was cover¬ 
ing the rubber and yelling to him to throw. He 
threw high in his excitement. Menken caught the 
ball and bent down, just as Joe slid over the plate 
in a cloud of dust. Menken dabbed frantically at 
him, and they rolled on the ground together. 

“Safe!” cried the umpire. 

The game was won and the Giants had “got the 
jump.” 

The crowd went mad. By thousands they 
rushed down from the stands and swarmed down 
over the field. Joe saw them coming and made 
a dash for the clubhouse. But before he had 
reached it, the crowd had closed in about him, and 
it was only by the assistance of his mates, who 
cleared a way for him, that he could get away 
from their wild enthusiasm and slip into its wel¬ 
come shelter. 

In a few minutes more the whole team had 
gathered there, laughing and shouting and going 
over the details of the game, while they took the 
showers and changed into their street clothes. 
There too came Robbie and McRae, as full of glee 
and happiness as the rest. 

“You old rascal!” chortled Robbie, as he 


y 6 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

slapped Joe on the back. “What are you trying 
to do? Be the whole team—gyp the other fellows 
out of their jobs? Such pitching, such batting— 
and then to cap it all by stealing home! Joe, old 
boy, I’ve seen lots of ball games, but your work 
to-day takes the cake.” 

McRae, though less demonstrative, was not a 
whit less delighted. 

“Great work, Matson,” he said. “Keep that 
up and there isn’t a man in either league will be 
able to touch you.” 

Jim too was fairly stuttering with his pride in 
his chum’s achievements. 

“Picked the game right out of the fire,” he 
exulted. “Tied it first and won it afterward. 
Joe old fellow, you’re in a class by yourself. And 
that steal home! They’ll talk about it all the 
season.” 

“Well,” replied Baseball Joe, with a grin, “I 
got rather homesick on third, and that home plate 
looked mighty good to me.” 

Then Hughson came along with his congratula¬ 
tions, and these perhaps were the greatest reward 
that Joe could have asked for his day’s work. 

For Hughson had been Joe’s baseball idol for 
the last ten years. For at least that perod of time, 
Hughson had been confessedly the greatest 
pitcher that baseball had ever seen. During that 
decade he had been the mainstay of the Giant 


STEALING HOME 


77 


team. When Hughson was slated to pitch, his 
mates were ready to chalk that game up in advance 
as won. And on the other hand, the opposing 
team was almost ready to concede the game before 
it was played. He had speed, curves and every¬ 
thing. At the most critical stage of a game he 
never lost his head. There might be three men 
on bases and none out, but that never disturbed 
Hughson. He would bring his wonderful “fade¬ 
away” into action and the batters would go down 
like ninepins. He had brawn—plenty of it—but 
in addition he had brain, and when it came to 
strategy and quick thinking there was no one to be 
compared with him. 

But it was not merely his remarkable skill that 
had made him the hero of the baseball world. He 
was a gentleman through and through. He had 
had a college training and could meet and talk 
with educated men on equal terms. He was up¬ 
right in his principles, clean in his living, quiet, 
plain, and unassuming. He was hail fellow well 
met with the other members of his team, and in 
fact with baseball players everywhere. Every¬ 
body liked him, and those who knew him best had 
a warm affection for him. 

Nor was there the slightest touch of jealousy 
about him. If any one else could take his laurels 
by showing that he was a better pitcher, Hughson 
welcomed the opportunity to give him every 


78 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


chance to do so. He was wholly wrapped up in 
the success of his team, and was only too glad to 
see any one helping to gain that success. His 
treatment of Joe since the latter had joined the 
team had been cordial in the extreme. He coached 
him, encouraged him, and did everything in his 
power to make him the star pitcher he saw he was 
destined to become. 

Hughson had been hurt in a collision just before 
the final games of the previous year, and had not 
been able to take part in the World Series. His 
arm had become better, but he was still in no con¬ 
dition to pitch. So that it had been merely as a 
spectator that he had witnessed the triumph of the 
Giants in this opening game of the season. 

Joe’s eyes lighted up as he saw Hughson com¬ 
ing toward him with extended hand. 


CHAPTER VIII 

A BASEBALL IDOL 

“Put her there, Matson!” cried Hughson, his 
face beaming with pleasure. “I never saw better 
pitching than you showed us to-day.” 

Joe’s face flushed. He shook Hughson’s hand 
heartily. 

“Oh, it’s nothing compared with lots of games 
you’ve pitched, Hughson,” he said. “I’m only in 
the infant class yet.” 

“A mighty husky infant,” laughed Hughson. 
“At least that’s what the Bostons think. It was a 
hard game for them to lose, just when they 
thought they had it tucked away in their bat bag.” 

“I feel rather sorry for Albaugh,” said Joe. 
“He pitched a peach of a game and deserved to 
win.” 

“He sure did,” conceded Hughson. “And nine 
times out of ten that kind of pitching would have 
won. But to-day he had the hard luck to be 
pitted against a better man. They got only one 
79 


8o BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

clean hit off of you. The other was a .scratch. A 
little more and you’d have pitched a no-hit game. 
And that’s going some for the first game of the 
season, I’ll tell the world. 

“Another thing that tickled me,” he went on, 
“was to see him pass you to first rather than give 
you a chance to hit the ball. That’s a compliment 
to all the boxmen of the country. As a rule we’re 
easy meat. The other pitchers are glad to see us 
come up to the plate. It has got to be a proverb 
that pitchers can’t hit. But you gave the lie to 
that proverb to-day. Those two hits of yours 
were ticketed for the fence. And that steal home 
was the classiest thing I’ve seen for a blue moon. 
That’s the kind of thinking that wins ball games. 
Do the thing the other fellow doesn’t expect you 
to do.” 

“It was a case of touch and go,” replied Joe. 
“I knew that I had touched the plate before 
Menken put the ball on me, but I wasn’t sure the 
umpire would see it the same way. But he did, 
and that’s all that matters. By the way, Hughson, 
how is that arm of yours coming along?” 

“Not as well as I should like,” responded Hughr 
son, while a touch of gloom came into his face. 
“There are days when it feels all right, and other 
days when I can’t lift it without pain. I’ve been 
down to see Reese again about it, and he can’t see 
anything radically wrong with it. Says I’ll have 


A BASEBALL IDOL 


8 r 


to be patient and give it time. But it’s mighty hard 
to have to sit on the bench when I’m fairly aching 
to get in the box again.” 

“I know just how you must feel,” returned Joe 
sympathetically. “The boys are all rooting for 
you to get back into harness again. It doesn’t 
seem the same old team with you out of the 
running.” 

“I’ll be back with bells on before long,” 
answered Hughson with a smile, as he moved on 
to have a chat with Robbie. 

“Isn’t he a prince?” Joe remarked admiringly 
to Jim, as they watched the back of the tall figure. 

“He sure is an honor to the game,” returned 
Jim. “Here’s hoping that he’ll soon be on deck 
again.” 

The next day the New York papers were full of 
the story of the game. There was a general feeling 
of jubilation over the auspicious start by the 
Giants, a feeling that was the more pronounced, 
because of the feeling that had previously pre¬ 
vailed that Hughson’s continued disability would 
be a serious handicap to the chances of again win¬ 
ning the pennant. 

One great subject dwelt upon in all the accounts 
was the marvelous pitching that Joe had shown. 
The sporting reporters “spread themselves” on 
the way he had held the Bostons in the hollow of 
his hand. To allow only two hits in the opening 


82 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

game, and one of them a scratch, was a feat that 
they dwelt upon at length. 

But scarcely less space was devoted to his bat¬ 
ting. Although it was recalled that in the previous 
year he had had a creditable average at the bat, 
considering that he was a pitcher, his power as a 
twirler had kept his other qualities in the shade. 
Comment was made on the perfect way he had 
timed the ball and of the fact that his homer had 
gone nearly to the end of the grounds almost on a 
straight line, a fact that attested the tremendous 
power behind the hit. One of the papers headed 
its article: “Is There to Be a New Batting King?” 
and went on to say among other things: 

“It i9 an extraordinary thing to pitch a two-hit 
game at the beginning of the season. But it is still 
more extraordinary that, despite the strain on the 
muscles and nerves of the pitcher who achieves 
that distinction, he should also have a perfect bat¬ 
ting average for the day. That is what occurred 
yesterday. In four times at the bat he was passed 
tw T ice and the other times poled out a triple and a 
home run. And this was done against heady and 
effective pitching, for Albaugh has seldom showed 
better form than in yesterday’s game. 

“One might have thought that with this record 
Matson would have called it a day and let it go at 
that. But he was still not satisfied. In the ninth, 


A BASEBALL IDOL 


83 


with two men out and two strikes called on My- 
lert, he put the game on ice by stealing home from 
third—as unexpected and dazzling a play as we 
shall probably be fortunate enough to see this 
year. It was the climax of a wonderful game. 

“McRae never made a shrewder deal than 
when he secured this phenomenal pitcher from St. 
Louis. We said this last year, when Matson’s 
great pitching disposed of Chicago’s chances for 
the pennant. We said it again when in the World 
Series he bore the heft of the pitcher’s burden and 
made his team champions of the world. But a 
true thing will bear repeating twice or even thrice, 
and so we say it now with added emphasis.” 

All of the comment was in the same laudatory 
strain, although in reference to his batting, one 
paper cautioned its readers that not too much im¬ 
portance was to be attached to that. It was prob¬ 
ably one of Matson’s good days, and one swallow 
did not make a summer. But whether he kept up 
his remarkable batting or not, the New York pub¬ 
lic would ask nothing more of him than to keep 
up his magnificent work in the box. 

Joe would not have been human if he had not 
enjoyed the praise that was showered upon him in 
the columns that he and Jim read with interest the 
next morning. It was pleasant to know that his 
work was appreciated. But he was far too sensi- 


84 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

ble to be unduly elated or to get a “swelled head” 
in consequence. He knew how quickly a popular 
idol could be dethroned, and he did not want the 
public to set up an ideal that he could not live 
up to. 

It was for that reason that he read with especial 
approval the article that warned against expecting 
him to be a batting phenomenon because of his per¬ 
formance of yesterday. 

“That fellow’s got it right,” he remarked to 
Jim, as he pointed to the paragraph in question. 
“I just had luck yesterday in straightening out 
Albaugh’s slants. Another time and I might be 
as helpless as a baby.” 

“Luck, nothing!” replied Jim, who had no 
patience with Joe’s depreciation of himself. 
“There was nothing fluky about those hits. You 
timed them perfectly and soaked the ball right on 
the nose. And look at the way you’ve been lining 
them out in training this spring. Wake up, man. 
You’re not only the king of pitchers, but you’ve 
got it in you to become the king of sluggers.” 

“Oh, quit your kidding,” protested Joe. 

“I’m not kidding,” Jim affirmed earnestly. 
“It’s the solemn truth. You’ll win many a game 
this year not only by your pitching but by your 
batting too. Just put a pin in that.” 

At this moment a bellboy tapped at the door, 
and being told to come in, handed Joe two tele- 


A BASEBALL IDOL 85 

grams. He tore them open in haste. The first 
was from Reggie and read: 

“Keep it up, old top. Simply ripping, don’t 
you know.” 

Joe laughed and passed it on to Jim. 

“Sounds just like the old boy, doesn’t it?” he 
commented. 

The second one was from Mabel: 

“So proud of you, Joe. Not surprised though. 
Best love. Am writing.” 

Jim did not see this one, but it went promptly 
into that one of Joe’s pockets that was nearest 
his heart, the same one that carried the little glove 
of Mabel’s that had been his inspiration in all his 
victorious baseball campaigns. 

After a hearty breakfast, the chums went out 
for a stroll. Neither was slated to pitch for that 
day, and they had no immediate weight of respon¬ 
sibility on their minds. Markwith, the left-handed 
twirler of the Giants, would do the box work that 
day unless McRae altered his plans. 

“Hope Red puts it over the Braves to-day the 
way you did yesterday,” remarked Jim, as they 
sauntered along. 

“I hope so,” echoed Joe. “The old boy seems 
to be in good shape, and they’ve usually had 


86 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

trouble in hitting him. They’ll be out for blood 
though, and if they put in Belden against him it 
ought to be a pretty battle. Markwith beat him 
the last time he was pitted against him, but only 
by a hair.” 

It was a glorious spring morning, and as they 
had plenty of time they prolonged their walk far 
up on the west side of the city. As they were 
approaching a corner, they saw a rather shabbily 
dressed man slouching toward them. 

Jim gave him a casual glance, and then clutched 
Joe by the arm. 

“Look who’s coming, Joe!” he exclaimed. “It’s 
Bugs Hartley I” 


CHAPTER IX 


AN OLD ENEMY 

Baseball Joe started as he looked at the man 
more closely. 

“Bugs Hartley!” he ejaculated. “I thought 
we’d seen the last of that fellow. I imagined that 
by this time he’d be in jail or in a lunatic asylum.” 

“He’ll get there some time likely enough,” 
replied Jim. “But just now he’s here. That’s 
Bugs as sure as shooting.” 

It was evident that the man had recognized 
them also, for he stopped suddenly, as though 
debating whether to advance or retreat. He de¬ 
cided on the former course, and with an air of 
bravado came toward them. Joe and Jim would 
have passed him without speaking, but he planted 
himself squarely in their path, a malignant look 
glowing in his bleary eyes. 

“So here you are again,” he snarled, addressing 
himself to Joe. 

“Sure thing,” answered Joe coolly. “You see 
me, don’t you?” 

“I see you all right,” replied Hartley, as his 
87 


88 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

eye took in Joe’s well-dressed form. “All dolled 
up too. The man who took the bread and butter 
out of my mouth. Oh, I see you all right, worse 
luck.” 

Bugs Hartley had been a well known character 
in baseball for some years. He had gained his 
nickname from his erratic habits. He had never 
been any too strong mentally, and his addiction to 
liquor had still further contributed to throw him 
off his balance. But he had been a remarkable 
pitcher, with a throwing arm that made up for 
some of his mental deficiencies, and had played in 
several major league clubs. For some years he 
had been a member of the Giants, and was still a 
member when* Joe joined the team. His vicious 
habits and utter failure to obey the rules of disci¬ 
pline had made him a thorn in his manager’s side, 
but McRae had tolerated him because of his 
unusual skill in the box. 

Joe had felt sorry for the man, and had done 
all he could to help him along. Once he had 
found him wandering intoxicated in the streets on 
the eve of an important game, and had got him off 
quietly to bed so as to hide the matter from 
McRae. But there was no gratitude in Hartley’s 
disposition, and besides he was consumed with 
envy at seeing Joe’s rapid progress in his profes¬ 
sion, while he himself, owing to his dissipation, 
was going backward. 


AN OLD ENEMY 


89 


On one occasion, he had tried to queer Joe by 
doping his coffee just before the latter was 
scheduled to pitch in a game with Philadelphia. 
His hatred was increased when, after being 
knocked out of the box during a game, Joe had 
taken his place and won out. McRae at last lost 
patience with him and gave him his walking 
papers. Hartley’s twisted brain attributed this to 
Joe, though as a matter of fact Joe had asked 
McRae to give Bugs another chance. 

Hartley’s reputation was so bad as a man and 
it was so generally understood that he was through 
as a pitcher that no other club cared to engage him. 
This increased his bitterness against the supposed 
author of his misfortunes. On one occasion he had 
tried to injure Joe in a dark street by hurling a 
jagged bolt of iron at his head, and the only thing 
that saved Baseball Joe was that at the moment he 
had stooped to adjust his shoelace. At that time 
Joe might have handed him over to the police, but 
instead he let him go with a warning. Now he 
had again met this dangerous semi-lunatic in the 
streets of New York. 

“Now look here, Bugs,” said Joe quietly and 
decidedly. “I’m just about tired of that kind of 
talk. I’ve done everything I could for you, and in 
return you’ve doped me and otherwise tried to 
hurt me. You’ve been your own worst enemy. 
I’m sorry if you’re hard up, and if you need money 


90 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

I’ll give it to you. But I want you to keep away 
from me, and if there’s any more funny business 
you won’t get off as easily as you did last time.” 

“I don’t want your money,” snapped Bugs. 
“I’m after you, and I’ll get you yet.” 

“I don’t think you’d better try it. It won’t get 
you anywhere, except perhaps in jail.” 

“There’s ways of doing it,” growled Hartley. 
“Ways that you ain’t dreamin’ of.” 

A sudden thought struck Joe. 

“Do you mean anonymous letters?” he asked, 
looking keenly into Hartley’s eyes. 

“Anon-non—what do you mean?” the man 
asked sullenly. He was an illiterate man and had 
probably never heard the word before. 

“Letters without any name signed to them,” 
persisted Joe. 

“Awl what are you giving me?” snapped 
Hartley. “I don’t know what you’re talking 
about.” 

His mystification was so genuine that Joe knew 
that his shot, fired at random, had missed the 
mark. He could eliminate Hartley at once as a 
possible author of the anonymous letter Mabel 
had received. 

“Never mind,” said Joe. “Now one last word, 
Bugs. Twice you’ve tried to do me up and twice 
you’ve failed. Don’t let it happen a third time. 
It will be three strikes and out for you if you do.” 


AN OLD ENEMY 


9 i 


He made a move to pass on. Hartley seemed 
for a moment as though he would bar the way, 
but the steely look in Joe’s eyes made him think 
better of it. With a muttered imprecation he 
stepped aside, and the two friends moved on. 

“A bad egg,” remarked Jim, as they walked 
along. 

“I don’t know whether he’s just bad or is mad,” 
replied Joe regretfully. “A combination of both I 
suppose. He’s got the fixed idea that I’ve done 
him a wrong of some kind and his poor brain 
hasn’t room for anything else. It’s too bad to see 
a man that was once a great pitcher go to the dogs 
the way he has. I suppose he picks up a few 
dollars now and then by pitching for semi-profes¬ 
sional teams. But most of that I suppose is 
dissipated.” 

“Well, you want to keep on your guard against 
him, Joe,” warned Jim, in some anxiety. “A 
crazy man makes a dangerous enemy.” 

“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need of worrying 
about Bugs,” rejoined Joe carelessly. “The 
chances are ten to one we’ll never run across him 
again.” 

The encounter had rather spoiled their morn¬ 
ing, and they hailed a taxicab to take them back to 
their hotel. There they had lunch and then rode 
up to the Polo Grounds for the game. 

As Joe had predicted, the Bostons that after- 


92 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

noon were out for blood and they evened up the 
score. Markwith pitched a good game except for 
one bad inning when he lost control, and hits, 
sandwiched in with passes and a wild pitch, let in 
three runs. He braced up after that, but it was 
too late, and the Giants had to take the little end 
of the score. 

In the next two weeks the Giants met the rest 
of the Eastern teams, and, taking it as a whole, 
the result was satisfactory. They had no trouble 
in taking the Phillies into camp, for that once great 
team had been shot to pieces. The majority of 
the Boston games also went to the Giants’ credit. 
They met a snag, however, in Brooklyn, and the 
team from over the bridge took four games out of 
six from their Manhattan rivals. But then the 
Brooklyns always had been a hoodoo for the 
Giants, and in this season, as in many others, they 
lived up to the tradition. 

Still the Giants wound up their first Eastern 
series with a percentage of 610, which was respect¬ 
able if not brilliant. But now their real test was 
coming. They were about to make their first inva¬ 
sion of the West, where the teams were much 
stronger than those of the East. Cincinnati was 
going strong under the great leader who had once 
piloted the Phillies to a championship. Chicago 
was quite as formidable as in the year before, 
when the Giants had just nosed them out at the 


AN OLD ENEMY 


93 


finish. St. Louis, though perhaps the least to be 
feared, was developing sluggers that would put 
the Giants’ pitchers on their mettle. But most of 
all to be feared was Pittsburgh, which had been 
going through the rest of the Western teams like 
a prairie fire. 

“Pittsburgh’s the enemy,” McRae told his men, 
and Robbie agreed with him. “Beat those birds 
and you’ll cop the flag!” 


CHAPTER X 


THREE IN A ROW 

The first jump of the team was to Cincinnati, 
and there they found their work cut out for them. 
The Reds had just lost three out of four to Pitts¬ 
burgh, and they had got such a talking to from 
their manager, from the fans, and from the press 
of the city that they knew they had to do some¬ 
thing to redeem themselves. They knew that if 
they could hold the Giants even, it would be some¬ 
thing; if they could take three out of four they 
would be forgiven; while if they could make a 
clean sweep of the series they would “own the 
town.” 

It was a singular thing what delight all the 
Western teams, and for that matter all the teams 
of the League, took in beating the Giants. A vic¬ 
tory over them, of course, did not count any more 
in the final score than a victory over one of the 
tailenders; but there was a fiendish satisfaction in 
taking the scalps of the team from the “Big 
Town.” So that the managers always saved their 
94 


THREE IN A ROW 


95 


best pitchers for the games with the Giants, while 
they took a chance with their second string pitchers 
against the other teams. This of course was a com¬ 
pliment; but it was a compliment that the Giant9 
did not especially appreciate, for it made their 
task harder than that of any other team in the 
League. 

So when the Giants learned that Dutch Rutter 
was to try his prowess against them in the opening 
game, they were not surprised. Rutter was a left¬ 
hander who had made a phenomenal record the 
preceding year, and he had been especially rested 
up and groomed with the Giant series in view. 
Meran, the manager, had figured that if he could 
win the first game with Rutter he could come back 
with him in the fourth, and thus have at least a 
chance of getting an even break on the series. 

But McRae, anticipating such a move, had so 
arranged his own selection of pitchers that Joe 
was in line for the first game, and he was not 
afraid to pit his “ace” against the star boxman of 
the Cincinnatis. 

His confidence was justified, for Baseball Joe 
won out after a gruelling struggle. In Rutter he 
had found an opponent worthy of his steel. For 
six inning9 neither team broke into the run 
column. Rutter had superb control for a left¬ 
hander, and he showed a most dazzling assort¬ 
ment of curves and slants. But Joe came back at 


96 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

him with the same brand of pitching that he had 
shown in the opening game, and the Cincinnati 
batsmen were turned back from the plate bewil¬ 
dered and disgruntled. In vain their manager 
raved and stormed. 

“Why don’t you hit him?” he asked of his star 
slugger, as the latter came back to the bench, after 
having been called out on strikes. 

“Hit him!” Duncan came back at him. “What 
chance have I got of hitting him, when I can’t even 
hit the ball he pitches?” 

Still the Giants had a scare thrown into them 
when in the ninth inning, by a succession of 
fumbles and wild throws, the Cincinnatis had three 
men on bases and none out. As they themselves 
had only one run, scored in the seventh inning by 
a three base hit by Joe, aided by a clean single by 
Mylert, the chances looked exceedingly good that 
the Cincinnatis might tie the score or win the 
game. A clean single would have brought in one 
run and probably two. 

But Baseball Joe was always at his best when 
most depended on him. While the coachers tried 
to rattle him and the crowds frantically adjured 
Thompson, who was at the bat, to bring the men 
on bases in to the plate, Joe was as cool as a 
cucumber. 

He threw a swift high one to Thompson which 
the latter missed by three inches. Mylert threw 


THREE IN A ROW 


97 


the ball back to Joe, who stopped it with his foot 
and stooped as though to adjust his shoe lace. He 
fumbled an instant with the lace, and then sud¬ 
denly picking up the ball hurled it to second like a 
shot. Emden, who was taking a long lead off the 
base, tried to scramble back, but Denton had the 
ball on him like a flash. Mellen who was on third 
made a bolt for the plate, but Denton shot the ball 
to Mylert, and Mellen was run down between 
third and home. While this was going on, Galla¬ 
gher had taken second, and profiting by the run¬ 
ning down of Mellen, kept on half way to third. 
He did not dare go all the way to third, because 
Mellen still had a chance to get back to that base. 
But the instant Mellen was touched out, Joe, who 
had taken part in running him down, shot the ball 
to Willis at third and Gallagher was caught be¬ 
tween the second and third bags. Three men were 
out, the game was over, and the Giants had begun 
their Western invasion with a i too victory. 

Joe’s quick thinking had cleared the bags in a 
twinkling. It had all come so suddenly that the 
crowd was dumbfounded. Meran, the Cincin¬ 
nati manager, sat on the bench with his mouth 
open like a man in a daze. His men were equally 
“flabbergasted.” Thompson still stood at the 
plate with his bat in hand. It seemed to him that 
a bunco game had been played on him, and he was 
still trying to fathom it. 


98 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Then at last the crowd woke up. They hated 
to see the home team lose, but they could not 
restrain their meed of admiration and applause. 
The stands fairly rocked with cheering. They 
had seen a play that they could talk about all their 
lives, one that happens perhaps once in a genera¬ 
tion, one that they would probably never see 
again. 

McRae and Robbie for a moment acted like 
men in a trance. Over Robbie’s rubicund face 
chased all the colors of the chameleon. It almost 
seemed as though he might have a stroke of 
apoplexy. Then at last he turned to McRae and 
smote him mightily on the knees. 

“Did you see it, John?” he roared. “Did you 
see it?” 

“I saw it,” answered McRae. “But for the 
love of Pete, Robbie, keep that pile driver off my 
knees. Yes, I saw it, and I don’t mind saying 
that I never saw anything like it in my thirty 
years of baseball. I have to pinch myself to make 
sure I’m not dreaming.” 

“A miracle man, that’s what he is!” ejaculated 
Robbie. “That wing of his is wonderful, but it’s 
the head on him that tops any other in the league. 
He wasn’t behind the door when brains were 
given out.” 

Meran, the Cincinnati manager, who was a 
good sport, after he had recovered from his 


THREE IN A ROW 


99 

astonishment, came over to the Giants’ bench and 
shook hands with McRae and Robson. 

“It was a hard game to lose, John,” he said to 
the Giants’ manager. “I thought we had it sewed 
up in the ninth. But there’s no use bucking 
against that pitcher of yours. I’m only glad that 
you can’t pitch him in all your games.” 

Joe, flushed and smiling, was overwhelmed with 
congratulations, but he made light of his feat, as 
was his custom. 

“It was simple enough,” he protested. “I had 
the luck to catch Emden off second and the boys 
did all the rest.” 

“Simple enough,” mimicked Jim. “Oh, yes, it 
was simple enough. That’s the reason it happens 
every day of the week.” 

It was a good beginning, but the old proverb 
that “a good beginning makes a bad ending” was 
illustrated in this Western tour. For some reason 
most of the Giant pitchers could not “get going.” 
Jim pulled out a victory in the Cincinnati series, 
but Markwith lost his game, and Hughson, who 
tried to pitch one of the games, found that he was 
not yet in shape. 

That series ended two and two. In Chicago the 
Giants had to be content with only one victory out 
of the series. They hoped to make up for this in 
St. Louis. But they found that the fame of 
“Murderers’ Row” had not been exaggerated, 


/ 




100 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RIM KING 

and there was a perfect rain of hits from the 
Cardinals’ bats that took two games out of three, 
the fourth that had been scheduled being held up 
by rain. 

When the team swung around to Pittsburgh, 
there were some added wrinkles between Mc¬ 
Rae’s brows. 

“If we can only break even with Cincinnati and 
get the little end of it in Chicago and St. Louis, 
what will Pittsburgh do to us ?” he asked Robbie, 
with a groan. 

“What Pittsburgh will do to us, John,” replied 
Robbie soberly, “is a sin and a shame!” 


CHAPTER XI 


RIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER 

The Smoky City was all agog over the games. 
It had won championships before, but that was in 
the days of Fred Clarke and Honus Wagner and 
other fence breakers. It had been a good many 
years since it had seen a pennant floating over 
Forbes Field, and old-timers were wont to shake 
their heads sadly and say they never would see 
it again. 

But this year the “dope” pointed in the right 
direction. The management of the team had 
strengthened the weak point in the infield by a 
winter trade that had brought to them “Rabbit” 
Baskerville, the cracker jack shortstop of the 
Braves. The benefit of the change had been mani¬ 
fested in the spring practice when the Rabbit had 
put new pep and ginger in the team. And in the 
regular games so far they had had little difficulty 
in winning a large majority from their rivals. 
How they would hold out against the Giants was 

IOI 


102 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

the problem that yet remained to be solved. But 
unless the Giants showed a decided reversal from 
the form in which they had been playing recently, 
it would not be so very hard to take them also into 
camp. 

The Giants themselves felt none too much con¬ 
fidence, as they prepared for this important series. 
One bit of luck came to them, however, in the 
return at this juncture of Larry Barrett to the 
team. He had been down with an attack of inter¬ 
mittent fever that had kept him out of part of the 
spring practice and had prevented him thus far 
from playing in any of the regular games. But 
on the team’s arrival in Pittsburgh, they found 
Barrett waiting for them, looking a little lighter 
than usual, but declaring himself in excellent con¬ 
dition and fit to play the game of his life. 

The previous year he had guarded the keystone 
bag, and by general consent was regarded as the 
best second baseman in the League. His batting 
too was a powerful asset to the team, as season 
after season he ranked among the .300 hitters. 
Apart from his superb playing at bat and in the 
field, he also helped to keep the boys in good 
spirits. His wit and love of fun had gained him 
the nickname of “Laughing Larry,” and no team 
of which Larry was a member could stay long in 



necessary a change in the 


RIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER 103 

team. Allen, who had not made a success in play¬ 
ing the “sun field,” was benched, and Denton, 
whose batting could not be spared, was shifted to 
right field in his place, while Larry resumed his 
old position at second. 

On the morning of the day of the first game, 
McRae called his players together for a few words 
of counsel. At least he called it counsel. The 
players were apt to refer to it as roasting. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “that I’ve got the 
greatest collection of false alarms of any manager 
in either of the big leagues.” 

This was not an especially encouraging begin¬ 
ning, but each of the men tried to look as though 
the manager could not by any possibility be refer¬ 
ring to him. Some of them hoped that he would 
not descend from generalities to particulars. 

The manager’s keen eyes ranged around the 
circle as though looking for contradiction. There 
was a silence as of the tomb. 

“You fellows haven’t been playing baseball,” 
he went on. “You’ve been playing hooky. Look 
at the way you’ve let the other teams walk over 
you. The Chicagos took three out of four from 
you. The Cardinals grabbed two out of three, 
and its only the mercy of heaven that rain kept 
them from copping another. Look at the way 
you’ve been batting. Every team in the League 
except the Phillies has a better average. You’ve 


104 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

got enough beef about you to knock the ball out of 
tihe lot, and you’ve been doing fungo hitting, 
knocking up pop flies. What in the name of seven 
spittin’ cats do you mean by it? Every time you 
collect your salaries you ought to be arrested for 
getting money on false pretenses.” 

He paused for a moment, and some of the more 
hopeful players thought that perhaps he was 
through. But he was only getting his breath. 
He faced them scornfully. 

“Giants!” he exclaimed with sarcasm. “Giants 
you call yourselves. Get wise to yourselves. If 
you’re Giants, I’m a Chinaman. It’s dwarfs you 
are, pygmies. Now I want you boobs to get one 
thing into your heads. Get it straight. You’ve 
got to win this series from Pittsburgh. Do you 
get me? You’ve got to! If you don’t, I’ll dis¬ 
band the whole team and start getting another one 
from the old ladies’ home.” 

Much more he said to the same effect, with the 
result that when the men, with heightened color 
and nerves rasped' by his caustic tongue lashing, 
left the clubhouse, they were in red-hot fighting 
mood. Pygmies were’they? Well, on the ball 
field they’d prove to McRae that he didn’t know 
what he was talking about. 

An immense crowd was present that filled 
Forbes Field to capacity when the bell rang for the 
beginning of the game. Joe had pitched only two 


RIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER 105 

days before, and McRae decided to send Mark- 
with into the box. 

In the first inning, Dawley, the Pittsburgh 
pitcher, found it hard to locate the plate, and 
Curry was passed to first. On the hit and run 
play, Iredell popped to the pitcher, and Curry had 
all he could do to get back to first. Burkett lined 
a clean hit over the second baseman’s head, but by 
sharp fielding Curry was kept from going beyond 
the middle bag. On the next ball pitched, Curry 
tried to steal third but was thrown out. Burkett 
in the meantime had got to second, but he was left 
there when Wheeler sent a long fly to center that 
Ralston captured after a hard run. 

The Pittsburgh^ were not long in proving that 
they had their batting clothes on. Ralston landed 
on the first ball that Markwith sent up for a home 
run. The crowd chortled with glee, and the 
Giants and the few supporters they had in the 
stands were correspondingly glum. The blow 
seemed to shake Markwith’s nerve, and the next 
batter was passed. Bemis sent a sizzling grounder 
to Iredell and it bounced off his glove, the batter 
reaching first and Baskerville taking second on the 
play. Astley dribbled a slow one to Markwith, 
who turned to throw to third, but finding that 
Baskerville was sure of making the bag, turned 
and threw high to Burkett at first. The tall first 
baseman leaped high in the air and knocked it 


io6 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

down, but not in time to get his man. With the 
bases full Brown slapped a two bagger to center 
that cleared the bases, three men galloping over 
the plate in succession. 

It was evidently not Markwith’s day, and Mc¬ 
Rae beckoned him to come in to the bench while 
the crowd jeered the visitors and cheered their 
own favorites. Poor Markwith looked disconso¬ 
late enough, and after a moment’s conference with 
McRae, which he was not anxious to prolong, he 
meandered over the field to the showers. 

“Bring on the next victim !” taunted some of the 
spectators. “All pitchers look alike to us to-day. 
Next dead one to the front.” 

McRae held a brief consultation with Robbie, 
and then nodded to Jim. 

“Go to it, Jim,” encouraged Joe. “I’m rooting 
for you, old man. Pull some of the feathers out 
of those birds. It’s a tough job bucking against 
a four run lead, but you’re the boy to do it.” 

“I’ll do my best,” answered Jim, as he put on 
his glove and went into the box. 

It was the cue for the crowd to try to rattle him. 
The coachers began chattering like a lot of mag¬ 
pies, and the man on second began to dance about 
the bag and shout to Garrity, the next batsman, to 
bring him in. 

Jim sent one over the plate that cut it in half, 
but the batsman had orders to wait him out, under 


RIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER 107 

the supposition that he would be wild. So he let 
the second one go by also. 

“Strike two!” called the umpire. 

Garrity braced. This was getting serious. 
This time Jim resorted to a fadeaway that Gar¬ 
rity swung at with all his might. But the ball 
eluded him and dropped into Mylert’s mitt. 

“You’re out!” snapped the umpire, waving him 
away from the plate. 


CHAPTER XII 


jim’s winning ways 

“Good boy, Jim!” cried Joe, as his chum came 
in to the bench. “You put the Indian sign on that 
fellow all right. Just hold them down and trust 
to the boys to bat in some runs to even up the 
score.” 

But if the boys had any such intentions they 
certainly took their time about it. Larry, to be 
sure, poled out a long hit to right that had all the 
signs of a homer, but Astley backed up and fairly 
picked it off the wall. Denton cracked out a 
single between first and second. Jim hit sharply 
to third, and O’Connor by a superb stop got the 
ball to first in time, Denton in the meantime reach¬ 
ing second. Mylert swung savagely at the ball, 
but it went up straight in the air and Dawley 
gathered it in. 

In their half of the second, the Pittsburghs in¬ 
creased their lead to five. O’Connor struck out 
on the first three balls pitched, but Jenkins caught 
the ball on the nose for a single to center. Curry 
108 


JIM’S WINNING WAYS 


109 


thought he had a chance to make a catch, and ran 
in for it, instead of waiting for it on a bound. By 
this mistake of judgment the ball got past him, 
and before it could be retrieved Jenkins by fast 
running had crossed the plate. Dawley was easy 
on a bounder to Willis, and Ralston, in trying to 
duck away from a high incurve, struck the ball 
with his bat and sent it rolling to Burkett for an 
out. 

“Not much nourishment for us in that inning,” 
muttered McRae, as he watched the man chalking 
up another run for Pittsburgh on the big score- 
board at the side of the field. 

“No,” agreed Robbie. “But you’ll notice that 
the run wasn’t earned. If that hit had been 
played right, Jenkins would have been held for a 
single.” 

“Give them a row of goose eggs, Dawley,” was 
the advice shouted to the Pittsburgh pitcher, as 
he stepped into the box. 

Dawley grinned with supreme confidence. And 
for the third and fourth inning his confidence 
seemed justified. The ball came zipping over the 
plate with all sorts of twists and contortions, and 
the Giants seemed helpless before him. They 
either struck out or put up feeble flies and fouls 
that were easily gathered up. Only one hit went 
outside the diamond and that plumped square into 
the hands of the waiting center fielder. 


no BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


But in the meantime, the Pittsburghs were get¬ 
ting a little uneasy about the kind of pitching that 
Jim was sending across. His fast ball went so 
swiftly that the eye could scarcely follow it. He 
had perfect control, and the “hop” on the ball 
just before it got to the plate was working to per¬ 
fection. The way he worked the corners of the 
plate was a revelation. And in the fourth inning, 
when he struck out the side on nine pitched balls, 
a ripple of applause was forced from the specta¬ 
tors, despite their desire to see the home team 
win. 

“You’re going like a house afire, old man,” ex¬ 
claimed Joe, as the Giants came in for their turn. 

“That’s what he is,” agreed Robbie, who had 
overheard the remark. “But it won’t do any good 
unless our boys wake up and do something with 
their bats. That five run lead is bad medicine.” 

It did not look any better to the Giants than it 
did to Robbie, and in the fifth inning they began 
to come to life. Dawley, for the first time, 
seemed to be a little shaky in his control. He 
passed Iredell and then tried to fool Burkett on a 
slow ball. But the latter timed it exactly and poled 
it out between left and center for a beautiful 
three-bagger. Iredell scored easily and a roar went 
up from the men in the Giants’ dugout as he 
crossed the plate. 

“Here’s where we start a rally, boys!” cried 


JIM’S WINNING WAYS 


HI 


Robbie. “Every man on his toes now. Here’s 
where we send this pitcher to the showers.” 

Wheeler went to the plate with directions to 
sacrifice, which he did neatly by sending a slow 
roller to first, on which Burkett scored. Willis 
clipped out a liner to right, which was really only 
good for a single, but in trying to stretch it to a 
two baser he fell a victim at second. Then Larry 
came to the bat. 

“Show them that you’re layoff hasn’t hurt your 
batting eye, Larry,” sang out McRae. 

The first ball was wide, and Larry held his bat 
motionless. On the second offering he fouled off. 
The third was about waist high, and Larry swung 
at it. The ball soared off to right field and landed 
in the bleachers. It was a clean home run and 
Larry trotted easily around the bases, a broad grin 
on his good-natured Irish face. 

“We’re finding him!” shouted McRae. “We’ve 
got him going! Now, Denton, put another one in 
the same place.” 

Denton did his best, but it was not good enough. 
Dawley had tightened up and was sending the ball 
over the plate as though thrown from a catapult. 
Two strikes were called on Denton, and then he 
put up a fly just back of second which Baskerville 
caught in good style. 

The inning was over, but the Giants felt better. 
There was a big difference between five to none 


112 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

and five to three. Besides, they had learned that 
Dawley could be hit. 

“Keep them down, Jim, and we’ll put you in the 
lead next inning,” prophesied Larry, as he passed 
him on his way out to second. 

Jim proceeded at once to keep them down. He 
had never been in better form. The three runs 
that his mates had scored had put new heart in 
him and he made the Pittsburghs “eat out of his 
hand.” They simply could not get going against 
him. 

His sharp breaking curve had their best batters 
completely at sea. They were swinging in be¬ 
wilderment at balls that they could not reach. 
For the next three innings not a man reached first 
base and in the eighth inning he mowed them 
down on strikes as fast as they came to the 
plate. 

“Oh, if we’d only started the game with him!” 
groaned McRae, as the eighth inning ended with 
the score unchanged. 

For in the meantime Larry’s prophecy had not 
been fulfilled that the Giant batsmen would gain 
the lead. They had been hitting more freely than 
in the early part of the game, but had been batting 
in hard luck. Every ball they hit seemed to go 
straight to some fielder, and the Pittsburghs were 
giving their pitcher magnificent support. There 
was one gleam of hope in the eighth, when with 


JIM’S WINNING WAYS 


113 

two men out, a Giant was roosting on second and 
another on third. But hope went glimmering 
when Burkett’s hoist to center was easily gathered 
in by Ralston. 

“We can win yet,” crowed Robbie, with a confi¬ 
dence he was far from feeling, as the Giants 
entered* on their last inning. “There’s many a 
game been won in the ninth. Go in now and knock 
him out of the box.” 

Wheeler started in with a single that just 
escaped the outstretched hands of Baskerville. 
McRae himself ran down to first to coach him. 
Willis followed with another single on which 
Wheeler went all the way to third. It looked as 
though the long-hoped for rally had at last com¬ 
menced. 

But a groan went up from the Giant dugout 
when Willis, on the next ball pitched, started for 
second and was nailed by three feet. Still Larry 
was next at bat, and his comrades, remembering 
his last home run, urged him to repeat. 

Larry was only too eager to do so, and on the 
second ball pitched laced it to right field for what 
looked to be a homer but went foul by a few feet 
only. The next was a missed strike. Two balls 
followed in quick succession and then, with the 
count three to two, slapped out a rattling two- 
bagger to center. Wheeler scored and the tally 
was five to four in Pittsburgh’s favor. 


114 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Then to Joe’s surprise McRae beckoned him 
from the dugout. 

“What’s the big idea?” Joe asked, as he came 
up to his manager. 

“I’m going to put you in as a pinch hitter,” 
answered McRae. “I’d rather take a chance on 
you than Denton. Get in there now and knock 
the cover off the ball.” 

There was a gasp of surprise from the stands. 
In their experience it was usually a pitcher who 
was taken out to make room for a pinch hitter. 
It was almost unheard of that the procedure 
should be reversed. To them it seemed a sign that 
McRae was at the end of his rope, and there were 
catcalls and shouts of derision as Joe came to the 
plate. And these redoubled in volume as he 
missed the first ball that Dawley sent over. 

“What did I tell you, boys?” 

“Nit, on that!” 

“Matson is all right as a pitcher, but as a bat¬ 
ter, nothing doing.” 

“Give him two more like that, Dawley!” 

“Take your time, Joe!” 

“Make him give you the kind you want!” 

“Here is where Pittsburgh chews the Giants 
up!” 

“Maybe you can do it somewhere else, but you 
can’t do it here!” 

“One, two, three, Dawley, remember.” 


JIM’S WINNING WAYS 


ii5 

So the calls ran on as Joe waited for the pitcher 
to deliver the sphere again. 

The Pittsburgh rooters thought they had Joe’s 
“goat” and they were prepared to make the most 
of it. They began a chorus of yells and groans 
that grew louder and louder. 

They stopped suddenly as Joe caught the next 
ball about a foot from the end of his bat. There 
was a mighty crack and the ball soared up and up 
into the sky over right field. The fielders started 
to run for it and then stopped short in their tracks, 
throwing up their hands in despair. The ball 
cleared the bleachers, cleared the wall, and went 
through the window of a house on the other side 
of the street. 

Joe had started running like a deer at the crack 
of the bat, but as he rounded first McRae shouted 
at him to take his time, and he completed the rest 
of his journey at a jog trot, Larry of course having 
preceded him. There was a wild jubilee at the 
plate. Robbie threw dignity to the winds and 
danced a jig, and Joe was sore from the thumping 
of his mates. 

“The longest hit that’s ever been made on 
Forbes Field!” cried Larry exultingly. 

“Old Honus Wagner in his best days never 
made such a clout,” joined in Jim. “Joe, old boy, 
you’ve saved the game.” 

“It isn’t over yet,” cautioned Joe smilingly; 


n 6 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“but if you keep up the same brand of pitching 
you’ve been showing us, they won’t have a China¬ 
man’s chance.” 

The next two batters 1 were easy outs and the 
Giants’ half was over. The Pittsburghs came in 
for their last chance, determined to do or die. It 
was exasperating for them to have the game 
snatched from them when they were just about 
to put it on their side of the ledger. But Jim put 
out the first one on a puny fly and sent the last two 
back to the bench by the strike-out route—and the 
game was over. 

In their first clash with the redoubtable Pitts¬ 
burghs, the Giants had won by six to five! 


CHAPTER XIII 


A BREAK IN THE LUCK 

It was a highly elated crowd of Giants that 
chattered away excitedly in the clubhouse after the 
finish of the game. Jim and Joe came in for the 
major share of the honors, the first because of his 
superb pitching and the latter for the glorious 
home run that had clinched the victory. 

“Some pitching, Barclay,” said Hughson, clap¬ 
ping Jim on the shoulder. “Do you realize that 
only thirty-two batters faced you and that eleven 
of them went out on strikes? That’s what I call 
twirling. 

“It’ll take some of the chestiness out of these 
Pirates,” laughed Larry. “They thought we were 
going to be as easy meat for them as the rest of 
the teams. And, begorra, it looked as though we 
would from the way the game started.” 

“You did your share all right, Larry,” replied 
Jim. “That home run of yours was a beauty. 
And that two-bagger was no slouch.” 

“But that clout of Joe’s was the real cheese,” 
said Denton generously. “Gee, Joe, I was a little 


n 8 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

sore when McRae put you in to take my turn at 
bat. But when I saw that old apple clear the 
fence I knew that the old man had the right dope. 
I haven’t made a hit like that since I’ve been in 
the game.” 

“Who has?” queried Curry. “I’ll bet it comes 
pretty close to being a record. If that house 
hadn’t been in the way the ball would be going 
yet.” 

“Don’t forget, Joe, that you’ll have to pay for 
that broken window,” laughed Wheeler. 

“I guess McRae would pay for a hundred 
broken windows and never say a word,” chuckled 
Iredell. 

He would have been still more sure of this had 
he been able to see McRae’s face at that moment 
and overheard what he was saying to Robson. 

“You’ve had a real bit of luck to-day, John,” the 
latter had remarked, his broad face radiant with 
satisfaction. “You’ve discovered that you have 
another first string pitcher. That work of young 
Barclay was simply marvelous.” 

“You said it, Robbie,” agreed McRae. “It was 
a rough deal to give a young pitcher the job of 
beating the Pittsburghs after they had a four run 
lead. But he stood the gaff and came through all 
right. From this time on he’ll take his regular 
turn in the box. But it isn’t that that pleases me 
most in this day’s work.” 


A BREAK IN THE LUCK 119 

“What is it then?” asked Robbie. 

“It’s the batting of Matson,” replied McRae 
thoughtfully. “IVe been in the game thirty years, 
and I’ve seen all the fence-breakers—Wagner, 
Delehanty, Brouthers, Lajoie, and all the rest of 
them. And I tell you now, Robbie, that he’s the 
king of all of them. The way he stands at the 
plate, the way he holds his bat, the way he times 
his blow, the way he meets the ball—those are the 
things that mark out the natural batter. It’s got 
to be born in a man. You can’t teach it to him. 
All the weight of those great shoulders go into his 
stroke, and he makes a homer where another man 
would make a single or a double. Now mark 
what I’m telling you, Robbie, but keep it under 
your hat, for I don’t want the kid to be getting 
a swelled head. In Baseball Joe Matson we’ve 
got not only the greatest pitcher in the game, 
but the hardest hitter in either league. And that 
goes.” 

“Oh, come now, John,” protested Robbie, 
“aren’t you going a little too strong? The great¬ 
est pitcher, yes. I admit that. There’s no one in 
sight now that can touch him, now that Hughson’s 
laid up. And between you and me, John, I don’t 
believe that even Hughson in his best days had 
anything on Matson. But when you speak of bat¬ 
ting, how about Kid Rose of the Yankees?” 

“He’s all to the good,” admitted McRae. 


120 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“He’s got a wonderful record; the best record in 
fact of any man that has ever broken into the 
game. He topped the record for home runs last 
season, and by the way he’s starting in this year 
he’ll do it again. Up to now we haven’t had any¬ 
one in the National League that could approach 
him. But I’m willing to bet right now that he 
never made so long a hit as Matson made this 
afternoon. Of course Rose has had more experi¬ 
ence in batting than Matson, and for the last two 
or three years he’s hardly done any pitching. But 
if I should take Matson out of the box right now 
and play him in the outfield every day, I’ll bet that 
by the end of the season he’d be running neck and 
neck with Kid Rose and perhaps a wee bit ahead 
of him.” 

“Well, maybe, John,” agreed Robbie, though a 
little doubtfully. “But what’s the use of talking 
about it? You know that we can’t spare him from 
the box. He’s our pitching ace.” 

“I know that well enough,” replied McRae. 
“But all the same I’m going to see that he has 
many a chance to win games for us by his batting 
as well as by his pitching. On the days he isn’t 
pitching, I’ll use him as a pinch hitter, as I did to¬ 
day. Then, too, when he is pitching, I’m going to 
make a change in the batting order. Instead of 
having him down at the end I’m going to put him 
fourth—in the cleanup position. If that old 


A BREAK IN THE LUCK 121 

wallop of his doesn’t bring in many a run I’ll miss 
my guess.” 

The very next day McRae had a chance to 
justify his theories. Hughson had told the man¬ 
ager that he thought he was in shape to pitch, and 
McRae, who had great faith in his judgment, told 
him to go in. The “Old Master,” as he was affec¬ 
tionately called, used his head rather than his arm 
and by mixing up his slow ball with his fast one 
and resorting on occasion to his famous fadeaway, 
got by in a close game. In the sixth, Joe was 
called on as a pinch hitter, and came across with 
another homer, which, although not as long as that 
of the previous day, enabled him to reach the 
plate without sliding and bring in two runs ahead 
of him. 

Two homers in two consecutive days were not 
common enough to pass without notice, and'the 
Pittsburgh sporting writers began to feature Joe 
in their headlines. There was a marked increase 
in the attendance on the third day when Joe was 
slated to pitch. On that day he “made monkeys” 
of the Pittsburgh batters, and on the two turns at 
bat when he was permitted to hit made a single 
and a three-bagger. In two other appearances at 
bat, the Pittsburgh pitcher deliberately passed him, 
at which even the Pittsburgh crowd expressed 
their displeasure by jeers. 

On the final day, Markwith was given a chance 


122 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

to redeem himself, and pitched an airtight game. 
But Hooper of the Pittsburghs was also at his 
best, and with the game tied in the ninth Joe again 
cracked out a homer to the right field bleachers, 
his third home run in four days! 

Markwith prevented further scoring by the 
enemy, and the game went into the Giants’ win¬ 
ning column. 

“Four straight from the league leaders,” Mc¬ 
Rae chuckled happily. “The break in the luck 
has come at last.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


A DELIGTFUL SURPRISE 

“Well, we wound up the trip in a blaze of 
glory, anyway,” remarked Jim to Baseball Joe, as 
they sat in the Pullman coach that was carrying 
them and the rest of the team back to New York. 

“Yes, and we just saved our bacon by doing it,” 
replied Joe. “Those last four games gave us 
eight out of fifteen for the trip. Not so awfully 
bad for a team on a trip, and yet not good enough 
to win the championship. But even at that I guess 
McRae won’t supplant us with a team from the old 
ladies’ home,” he added, with a laugh. 

“We’ve got a long series of games on the home 
grounds now,” put in Larry, the optimist. “We’ll 
show these other fellows how the game ought to 
be played. Just watch us climb.” 

“Here’s hoping you’re right,” chimed in 
Burkett. “A slice of the World Series money this 
year would look mighty good to me.” 

“That’s looking pretty far ahead,” said Curry. 
“Still, if Joe keeps up the batting he’s been show¬ 
ing us in Pittsburgh, I’ll bet we cop the flag.” 

123 


124 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“That may be just a flash in the pan,” cautioned 
Joe. “I may have had just a few good days when 
everything broke just right for me. I’m a pitcher, 
not a batter.” 

“Not a batter, eh?” remarked Larry, in feigned 
surprise. “How surprised Dawley and Hooper 
and the other Pittsburgh pitchers will be to hear 
that. They seemed to think you could pickle the 
pill all right.” 

The players found the baseball circles of New 
York in a ferment of interest and excitement over 
the team. There had been considerable despond¬ 
ency over the poor showing of the Giants in the 
first three series they had played on the trip. But 
the four rattling victories they had gained over 
Pittsburgh had redeemed them in the minds of 
their followers, and hopes for the pennant had 
revived. 

But the one thing that obscured everything else 
was the tremendous batting that Joe had done in* 
that last series. The sporting columns of the news¬ 
papers had headlines like: “The New Batting 
Star;” “A Rival to Kid Rose;” “Is There to Be a 
New Home-Run King?” and “The Colossus of 
Swat.” Joe found his footsteps dogged by re¬ 
porters eager to get interviews telling how he did 
it. Moving picture operators begged the privi¬ 
lege of taking him in all positions—as he gripped 
his bat—the way he stood at the plate—as he 


A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE 


125 


drew back for his swing. Illustrated weekly 
papers had full page pictures of him. Magazines 
offered him large sums for articles signed with his 
name. He found himself in the calcium lights 
holding the center of the stage, the focus of sport¬ 
ing interest and attention. 

Joe was, of course, pleased at the distinction he 
had won, and yet at the same time he was some¬ 
what uneasy and bewildered. He was not 
especially irked at the attention he was attracting. 
That had already become an old story as to his 
pitching. He was hardened to reporters, to being 
pointed out in the streets, to having a table at 
which he happened to be dining in a restaurant or 
hotel become the magnet for all eyes while 
whispers went about as to who he was. That was 
one of the penalties of fame, and he had become 
used to it. 

But hitherto his reputation had been that of a 
great pitcher, and in his own heart he knew he 
could sustain it. The pitching box was his throne, 
and he knew he could make good. But he was 
somewhat nervous about the acclamations which 
greeted his batting feats. He was not at all sure 
that he could keep it up. He had never thought 
of himself as any more than an ordinary batter. 
He knew that as a pitcher he was not expected to 
do much batting, and so he had devoted most of 
his training to perfecting himself in the pitching 


126 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

art Now he found himself suddenly placed on a 
pedestal as a Batting King. Suppose it were, as 
he himself had suggested, merely a flash in the 
pan. It would be rather humiliating after all this 
excitement to have the public find out that their 
new batting idol was only an idol of clay after all. 

He confided some of his apprehension to Jim, 
but his chum only laughed at him. 

“Don’t worry a bit over that, old man,” Jim re¬ 
assured him. “I only wish I were as sure of getting 
a million dollars as I am that you’ve got the bat¬ 
ting stuff in you. You’ve got the eye, you’ve got 
the shoulders, you’ve got the knack of putting all 
your weight into your blow. You’re a natural 
born batter, and you’ve just waked up to it.” 

“But this is only the beginning of the season,” 
argued Joe. “The pitchers haven’t yet got into 
their stride. By midsummer they’ll be burning 
them over, and then more than likely I’ll come a 
cropper.” 

“Not a bit of it,” Jim affirmed confidently. 
“You won’t face better pitching anywhere than we 
stacked up against in Pittsburgh, and you made 
all those birds look like thirty cents. They had 
chills and fever every time you came to the bat.” 

The matter was not long left in doubt. In the 
games that followed Joe speedily proved that the 
Pittsburgh outburst was not a fluke. Home runs 
rained from his bat in the games with the Brook- 


A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE 


127 


lyns, the Bostons and the Phillies. And when the 
Western teams came on for their invasion of the 
East, they had to take the same medicine. All 
pitchers looked alike to him. Of course he had 
his off days when all he could get was a single, and 
sometimes not that. Once in a long while he went 
out on strikes, and the pitcher who was lucky or 
skilful enough to perform that feat hugged it to 
his breast as a triumph that would help him the 
next season in demanding a rise in salary. But 
these occasions were few and far between. The 
newspapers added a daily slab to their sporting 
page devoted to Joe’s mounting home run record, 
giving the dates, the parks and the pitchers off 
whom they were made. And there was hardly a 
pitcher in the league whose scalp Joe had not 
added to his rapidly growing collection. 

In the business offices of the city, in restaurants, 
at all kinds of gathering places, the daily question 
changed. Formerly it had been: “Will the 
Giants win to-day?” Now it became: “Will 
Baseball Joe knock out another homer?” 

And the fever showed itself in the attendance 
at the Polo Grounds. Day by day the crowds 
grew denser. Soon they were having as many spec¬ 
tators at a single game as they had formerly 
looked for at a double-header. The money rolled 
into the ticket offices in a steady stream, and the 
owners and manager of the club wore the “smile 


123 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

that won’t come off.” The same effect was noted 
in all the cities of the circuit. The crowds 
turned out not so much to see the Giants play 
as to see if Baseball Joe would knock another 
home run. Joe Matson had become the greatest 
drawing card of the circuit. If this kept up, it 
would mean the most prosperous season the League 
had ever known. For the Giants’ owners alone, 
it meant an added half million dollars for the 
season. Already, with not more than a third of 
the games played, they had taken in enough to pay 
all expenses for the year, and were “on velvet” for 
the rest of the season. 

Nothing in all this turned Joe’s head. He was 
still the same modest, hardworking player he had 
always been. First and all the time he worked for 
the success of his team. Already the Giants* 
owners had voluntarily added ten thousand dol¬ 
lars to his salary, and he was at present the most 
highly paid player in his League. He knew that 
next year even this would be doubled, if he kept 
up his phenomenal work. But he was still the 
same modest youth, and was still the same hail 
fellow well met, the pal and idol of all his 
comrades. 

What delighted Baseball Joe far more than any 
of his triumphs was the information contained in 
a letter he wore close to his heart that Mabel was 
coming on to New York with her brother Reggie 


A DELIGHTFUL SURPRISE 


129 


for a brief stay on her way to her home in Golds¬ 
boro. They had been in almost daily correspon¬ 
dence, and their affection had deepened with every 
day that passed. Jim also had been equally assidu¬ 
ous and equally happy, and both players were 
counting the days that must elapse before the wed¬ 
ding march would be played at the end of the 
season. 

Luck was with Joe when, in company with Jim, 
he drove to the station to meet Mabel and Reggie. 
The rain was falling in torrents. Ordinarily that 
would have been depressing. But to-day it meant 
that there would be no game and that he could 
count on having Mabel to himself with nothing 
to distract his attention. 

Jim was glad on his friend’s account, but never¬ 
theless was unusually quiet for him. 

“Come out of your trance, old boy,” cried Joe, 
slapping him jovially on the knee. 

Jim affected to smile. 

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking about,” 
charged Joe. “You’re jealous because I’m going 
to see Mabel and you’re not going to see Clara. 
But cheer up, old man. The next time we strike 
Chicago we’ll both run down to Riverside for a 
visit. Then you’ll have the laugh on m. , for 
you’ll have Clara all to yourself while Mabel will 
be in Goldsboro.” 

Jim tried to find what comfort he could from 


130 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

the prospect, but the Chicago trip seemed a long 
way off. 

They reached the station ahead of time and 
walked up and down impatiently. The rain and 
wet tracks had detained the train a little, but at 
length its giant bulk drew into the station. They 
scanned the long line of Pullmans anxiously. 
Then Joe rushed forward with an exclamation of 
delight as he saw Reggie descend holding out his 
hand to assist Mabel—Mabel, radiant, starry- 
eyed, a vision of loveliness. 

Jim had followed a little more slowly to give 
Joe time for the first greeting. But his steps 
quickened and his eyes lighted up with rapture as 
behind Mabel Joe’s sister Clara came down the 
steps, sweet as a rose, and with a look in her eyes 
as she caught sight of Jim that made that young 
man’s heart lose a beat. 


CHAPTER XV 


AN EVENING RIDE 

There was a hubbub of delighted and inco¬ 
herent exclamations as the young people greeted 
each other with all their heart in their eyes. Of 
course in the crowded station the greetings could 
not be just what the boys—and the girls, too— 
desired, but those would come later. Reggie too 
came in for warm handshakes. 

“My word!” he exclaimed, as he smiled affably 
upon them all, “you folks seem glad to see one 
another. I’ll just slip over and look after the 
luggage.” 

They spared him without any regret at all. In¬ 
deed, it is doubtful if they even heard him. Joe 
was saying things to Mabel in an undertone, and 
Jim was doing the same thing to Clara. What 
they said was their own affair, but it seemed emi¬ 
nently satisfactory to all concerned. 

When at last they had come somewhat to their 
senses, Joe poked Jim in the ribs. 

“Some surprise, old man!” he remarked mis¬ 
chievously. 


i 3 2 baseball joe, home run king 

“Surprise!’* repeated Jim. “It’s Paradise. 
It’s heaven. Don’t tell me I’m going to wake up 
and find it all a dream. And you knew this all the 
time, you old rascal, and didn’t let me in on it.” 

“Just a little scheme that Mabel and I cooked 
up,” laughed Joe happily. “I thought Sis might 
like to come on and take a look at her only 
brother.” 

“Brother,” mimicked Mabel saucily. “Don’t 
flatter yourself. You won’t be looked at much 
while Jim’s around.” 

Clara flushed and laughed in protest. Joe, 
however, did not seem disturbed at the prospect. 
As long as Mabel looked at him the way she was 
looking now, he had nothing more to ask. 

A taxicab whirled them up to the pretty suite 
that Joe had reserved for the girls in a hotel. 
There were two rooms in the suite, and it was 
surprising how quickly Joe and Mabel took pos¬ 
session of one of them y while Jim and Clara found 
the other one much preferable. They had so 
much to say to each other that required no audi¬ 
ence. Reggie, who had an adjoining room, took 
himself off on the plea of an engagement that 
would keep him till luncheon time, and the happy 
young people had a long delightful morning to 
themselves. 

“Oh, I’m so proud of you, Joe,” Mabel assured 
him, among many other things. “You’re making 


AN EVENING RIDE 


133 


such a wonderful record. You don’t know how I 
read and treasure all the things the papers are say¬ 
ing about you. They give you more space than 
they give the President of the United States.” 

“You mustn’t make too much of it, honey,” Joe 
replied. “I’m in luck just now; but if I should 
have a slump the same people that cheer me now 
when I make a homer would be jeering at me when 
I came to the bat. There’s nothing more fickle 
than the public. One day you’re a king and the 
next you’re a dub.” 

“You’ll always be a king,” cried Mabel. 
“Always my king, anyway,” she added blushingly. 

In the meantime Clara and Jim were saying 
things equally precious to themselves and each 
other, but of no importance at all to the general 
public. Jim was surprised and pleased at the inti¬ 
mate acquaintance she had with all the phases of 
his rapid rise in his profession. She knew quite 
as well as the rest of the world that Jim already 
stood in the very front rank of pitchers, second 
only perhaps to Joe himself, and she had no hesi¬ 
tation in telling him what she thought of him. 
Sometimes it is not a pleasant thing for a man to 
know what a woman thinks of him, but in Jim’s 
case it was decidedly different, if his shining face 
went for anything. 

The young people took in a matinee in the 
afternoon and a musical show, followed by dinner, 


134 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

in the evening, and all were agreed in declaring it 
a perfect day. 

Jim was slated to pitch the next day and with 
Clara watching from a box he turned in a perfect 
game, winning by a score of i to o, the run being 
contributed by Joe, who turned loose a screaming 
homer in the sixth. Naturally both young men 
felt elated. 

It was a beautiful summer evening, and they 
had arranged for an automobile ride out on Long 
Island. Joe had hired a speedy car, but dispensed 
with the services of a chauffeur. He himself was 
an accomplished driver and knew all the roads. 
A chauffeur would have been only a restraint on 
their freedom of conversation. 

They bowled along over the perfect roads, 
happy beyond words and at peace with all the 
world. Mabel was seated in front with Joe, while 
Jim and Clara occupied the tonneau. All were in 
the gayest of spirits. Much of the time they 
talked, but speech and silences were equally sweet. 

They had dinner at an excellent inn, about forty 
miles out of the city. There was a good string 
band and the young couples had several dances. 
The evening wore away before they knew it, and 
it was rather late when they turned their faces' 
cityward. 

The car was purring along merrily on a rather 
lonely stretch of road in the vicinity of Merrick, 


AN EVENING RIDE 


135 


when a big car came swiftly up behind them. The 
driver tooted his horn and Joe drew a little to one 
side to give the car plenty of room to pass. The 
car rushed by and lengthened the distance until it 
was about a hundred yards ahead. 

“Seems to be in a hurry,” remarked Jim. 

“A bunch of joy riders, I suppose,” answered 
Joe. “Hello, what does that mean?” 

For the car had suddenly stopped and the driver 
had swung it across the road, blocking it. 

“Something gone wrong with the steering 
gear,” commented Joe. “Looks like a break¬ 
down. Perhaps we can help them.” 

He slowed up as he drew near the car. The 
next instant four men jumped out of the car and 
ran toward them. They had their caps drawn 
down over their eyes, and each of them carried a 
leveled revolver. 

“Hands up!” commanded their leader, as he 
covered Joe with his weapon. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD 

In an instant Baseball Joe brought the car to 
a stop. 

But in that instant his brain worked like light¬ 
ning. 

Neither he nor Jim was armed. He must 
temporize. Resistance at the moment might be 
fatal. Shooting would result probably in the 
death of one or more of the party. 

Before he had taken his hand from the wheel, 
he had formed a plan. 

The women had screamed and Jim had jumped 
to his feet. 

“Sit down, Jim,” said Joe. “Don’t you see 
they have the drop on us. I suppose it’s money 
you want?” he went on coolly, addressing the 
leader of the gang. 

“No,” was the unexpected answer. “We’re 
not after money this time. We want a man named 
Matson.” 

“I didn’t know I was so popular,” replied Joe 
jokingly, though the mention of his name in so 
136 


THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD 


137 


ominous a way had sent a start through him. “My 
name is Matson, Joe Matson. What do you want 
of me?” 

“Are you giving it to us straight?” asked the 
leader. “Are you Matson? How many men are 
there with you anyway?” he went on, peering into 
the tonneau. 

“There are two of us,” replied Joe. 

“Then get down in the road, both of you,” 
commanded the bandit. “I want to have a look 
at both of you so that there won’t be any mistake. 
My orders are for the man named Matson. No 
monkey work now!” 

Joe and Jim, inwardly boiling but outwardly 
cool, got down into the road. As they climbed 
down, Joe’s hand nudged Jim ever so slightly. 
Jim knew what that meant. It meant to make no 
move until Joe gave the sign. 

“Up with your hands!” ordered the leader 
curtly. “Bill, frisk them and see if they have 
guns.” 

The bandit called Bill ran his hands along their 
bodies and reported that they were entirely un¬ 
armed. 

“Now strike a match and let’s have a look at 
their faces,” was the next order. 

Bill obeyed, and as the light flared up, not only 
the leader but the rest of the band looked over the 
young men keenly. 


138 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“You’re Matson, all right,” said the leader to 
Joe, and the rest acquiesced. “I’ve seen your pic¬ 
ture in the papers many a time, and I’ve seen you 
at the Polo Grounds too. All right. You get 
back in the car,” he said to Jim, poking him in the 
side with his pistol, “and drive off.” 

“What do you want with me?” asked Joe 
steadily. 

“Oh, we’re not going to kill you,” replied the 
leader, with an evil grin. “But,” he muttered under 
his breath so low that only Joe could hear him, 
“by the time we’re through with you, that pitching 
arm of yours will be out of business. Them’s our 
orders.” 

“Who gave you those orders?” asked Joe. 

“Never you mind who gave them,” snarled the 
bandit. “I’ve got them, and I’m going-” 

He never finished the sentence. 

Like lightning Joe’s foot shot up and kicked the 
weapon from the leader’s hand. The next instant 
his fist caught another of the scoundrels a terrific 
crack on the jaw. The man went down as though 
he had been hit with an axe. At the same moment 
Jim’s hard right fist smashed into another straight 
between the eyes. There was the snap of a break¬ 
ing bone and the man toppled over. The fourth 
rascal, who had been paralyzed with astonishment, 
forgot to shoot and started to run, but Jim was 
on him like a tiger and bore him to the ground, 



THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD 


139 

his hands tightening on his throat until the rascal 
lay limp and motionless. 

In the meantime, the leader, nursing his hurt 
wrist, had hobbled to the car, whose engine all 
this time had remained running. Joe made a dash 
for the car, but the chauffeur put on all speed and 
darted away into the darkness. 

The first task of Joe and Jim was to gather up 
the weapons of the assailants. The three still lay 
dazed or unconscious. Under other circum¬ 
stances, the boys would have waited until the trio 
had regained their senses. But their first duty 
now was to the girls, who were half hysterical 
with fright. Joe took Mabel in his arms, after 
assuring her again and again in answer to her 
frantic questions that he was unhurt, and Jim 
comforted Clara until she had recovered her com¬ 
posure. 

They laid the bandits at the side of the road, so 
that they could not be run over, and then Joe took 
the wheel and drove on. To the first policeman 
they saw, Joe reported that he had seen some men 
who seemed to be hurt, alongside the road, and 
suggested that they be looked after. But he said 
nothing about the attempted holdup. Then he 
sped on, and soon they were in the precincts of the 
city. 

The girls in their alarm had failed to gather 
the true significance of the affair. To them it was 


i 4 o BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

like a confused dream. Their general impression 
was that a holdup had been attempted for the pur¬ 
poses of robbery. Still Mabel did remember that 
they had asked specifically for Matson. 

“Why was it that they asked for you especially, 
Joe?” she asked, snuggling closely to the arm that 
had so stoutly done its work that night. “Why 
was it?” 

“How do I know, honey?” answered Joe. 
“Perhaps,” he said jokingly, “they had heard of 
my increase in salary and thought I was rolling in 
money. Sometimes you know they kidnap a man, 
make him sign a check and then hold him prisoner 
until they cash it. No knowing what such rascals 
may do.” 

“Whatever it was, they’ve lost all interest in the 
matter now,” said Jim, with a laugh, as he thought 
of the discomfited bandits by the roadside and the 
fleeing leader in the automobile. 

Both Joe and Jim made light of it to the girls 
and laughed away their fears until they had seen 
them safely to their hotel. But later on two 
very sober and wrathful young men sat in their 
own room discussing the holdup. 

Joe had told Jim what the bandit leader had 
said about putting his pitching arm out of business, 
and his friend was white with anger. 

“The scoundrels!” he ejaculated. “That meant 
that they would have twisted your arm until they 


THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD 


141 

had snapped the tendons or pulled it* from its 
socket and crippled you for life. If I’d known that 
when I had my hands on that rascal’s throat, I’d 
have choked the life out of him.” 

“You did enough,” returned Joe. “As it is they 
got a pretty good dose. I know I cracked the 
leader’s wrist, and I heard a bone snap when you 
smashed that other fellow. Gee, Jim, you hit like 
a pile driver.” 

“No harder than you did,” replied Jim. “That 
fellow you clipped in the jaw was dead to the 
world before he hit the ground.” 

“After all, those fellows were merely tools,” 
mused Joe thoughtfully. “Did you hear the 
leader say that he had his orders? Who gave 
him those orders? If only the girls hadn’t been 
there, I’d have trussed the rascals up, waited until 
they had got their senses back, and then put them 
through the third degree until I’d found out the 
name of their employer. But I wouldn’t for the 
world have the girls know what those scoundrels 
were up to. They’d never have a happy moment. 
They’d worry themselves to death. We’ve got to 
keep this thing absolutely to ourselves.” 

“All the same, I can guess who the fellow was 
that employed them,” said Jim. 

“I think I can come pretty near it, too,” affirmed 
Joe. “In the first place, it was a man who had 
money. Those fellows wouldn’t have taken the 


142 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


job unless they had been well paid. Then, too, it 
was somebody who hated me like poison. There 
are two men who fulfil both of those conditions, 

and their names are-” 

“Fleming and Braxton,” Jim finished for him. 
“Exactly,” agreed Joe. “And knowing what I 
do of the two, I have a hunch that it was Braxton.” 



CHAPTER XVII 


FALLING BEHIND 

“Braxton’s the more likely one of the two to 
use violence—or have it used,” said Jim. “Not 
but what either one of them would be mean 
enough to do it. But Braxton has got more nerve 
than Fleming. Then, too, I happen to know that 
Fleming has run pretty well through his money, 
while Braxton is a millionaire. He was pretty 
hard hit by the failure of the All-Star League to 
go through last year, but he’s got plenty left. He 
could give those rascals a thousand, or five thou¬ 
sand if necessary, and never feel it.” 

“Speaking of money,” said Joe, “reminds me 
of something else that may be connected with this 
case. Do you remember what Reggie told us 
when he was in Riverside about that fellow in 
Chicago that was betting great wads of money 
that the Giants wouldn’t cop the flag? Betting it, 
Reggie said, as though he had something up his 
sleeve, as though he were betting on a sure thing. 
Now what could be a surer thing in a race as close 
143 


144 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

as this than to cripple the Giant team by robbing 
it of one of its pitchers ? He’d be getting a double 
satisfaction then—making a pile of money to make 
up for his losses last season and getting even with 
me for the thrashing I gave him. That is, of 
course, if the man is really Braxton.” 

“By Jove, I believe you’re right!” exclaimed 
Jim. “Of course that might seem a little far¬ 
fetched, if it weren’t for the other things that 
point to the same man. But when you remember 
that Braxton hails from Chicago, that the anony¬ 
mous letter had a Chicago postmark, when you 
recall that somebody tried to injure us in that road 
blockade the day after I thought I saw Braxton in 
the training town, and that he was the only one 
besides ourselves who knew the road we were 
going to take—when you take all these things to¬ 
gether, it seems a dead open-and-shut proposition 
that Braxton was the man that plotted all this 
scoundrelism.” 

“Some day soon I hope we’ll know the truth,” 
said Joe, “And when that day comes-” 

He did not finish the sentence, but his clenched 
fist and flashing eyes were eloquent. 

The next morning the chums went around early, 
to learn how the girls were feeling after their try¬ 
ing experience. They found them still a little nerv¬ 
ous and overwrought, but the society of the boys 
and the knowledge that they had come'through 



FALLING BEHIND 


145 


without injury soon brightened them up, and be¬ 
fore long they were their natural selves again. 
The way the boys had carried themselves in the 
fight with their assailants made them more than 
ever heroes in the eyes of those they loved best, 
and if it had not been for the deeper knowledge 
they had of the affair, Joe and Jim would have 
been rather glad it happened. 

Reggie, of course, had been told of the holdup 
and was almost stuttering in his wrath and indig¬ 
nation. But he, like the girls, figured that it had 
been an attack simply for the purpose of robbery, 
and the boys were not sure enough of Reggie’s 
discretion to tell him the real facts. They feared 
that some slip of the tongue on his part might 
reveal the matter, and they knew that a constant 
fear would from then on shadow the lives of 
Mabel and Clara. 

In about ten days the next Western trip of the 
Giants was to begin, and then Clara would return 
home, while Mabel would go on with Reggie to 
Goldsboro. But those precious ten days were en¬ 
joyed to the full by the young folks. Every hour 
that the boys could spare from the games was 
spent in the society of the girls, and every day that 
a game was played Mabel and Clara occupied a 
box in the grandstand at the Polo Grounds. The 
knowledge of the bright eyes that were following 
their every move put the boys on their mettle, and 


146 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

they played up to the top of their form. Jim’s 
progress as a boxman was evident with each suc¬ 
ceeding game, and Joe covered himself with 
laurels as both pitcher and batsman. But more 
than once, after Joe had let down an opposing 
team with but a few hits, he had an involuntary 
shudder as he looked at the mighty arm that had 
scored the victory and thought of it as hanging 
withered and helpless at his side. And only by the 
narrowest of margins had he escaped that fate. 

The hour of parting came at last, and it was a 
great wrench to all of them. There were promises 
on both sides of daily letters, that would serve to 
bridge the gulf of separation. 

The fight for the pennant was waxing hotter and 
hotter. The Giants and the Pittsburgh^ were run¬ 
ning neck and neck. First one and then the other 
was at the head in victories won. At times one 
would forge ahead for a week or two, but the 
other refused obstinately to be shaken off and 
would again assume the leadership. Everything 
promised a ding-dong, hammer-and-tongs finish. 

Some of the other teams were still in striking 
distance, but the first two were really the “class” 
of the League. The great pitching staff of the 
Brooklyns had gone to pieces, and it looked as 
though they were definitely out of the running. 
The Bostons, after a poor start, had braced and 
were rapidly improving their average, but they 


FALLING BEHIND 


147 


seemed too far behind to be really dangerous. The 
unfortunate Phillies were in for the “cellar cham¬ 
pionship” and did not have a ghost of a chance. 
Of the Western teams, outside of Pittsburgh, no 
fear was felt, though the consistent slugging of 
the Cardinals gave the leaders some uneasy mo¬ 
ments. Still, batting alone could not win games, 
and the Cardinals’ pitching staff, though it had 
some brilliant performers, was surpassed in 
ability by several teams in the League. 

In the American League also a spirited contest 
was going on. The White Sox, who had usually 
been a dangerous factor, were out of the running 
because they had had to build up practically a new 
team. But the Clevelands were as strong as they 
had been the year before, and were making a great 
bid for the flag. Detroit had started out bril¬ 
liantly, and with its hard hitting outfield was win¬ 
ning many a game by sheer slugging. Washington 
loomed up as a dangerous contender, and only a 
little while before had won fifteen straight games. 

But the chief antagonist of the Clevelands was 
the New York Yankee team. For many years 
they had struggled to win the championship, but 
though they had come so close at one time that a 
single wild pitch beat them out of it, they had 
never been able to gain the coveted emblem. 

“It seems at times as though a ‘jinx’ were 
pursuing the Yankees,” remarked Jim. “But this 


148 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

year they have got together a rattling good crowd 
in all departments of the game. Most of all that 
counts in their hopes, I imagine, is the acquisition 
of Kid Rose.” ’ 

Kid Rose was a phenomenal batter of whom 
every baseball fan in the United States was talk¬ 
ing. He had been a pitcher on the Red Sox and 
had done fine work in the box. It was only after 
he had been playing some time in that position that 
he himself, as well as others, began to realize the 
tremendous strength that resided in his batting 
arm and shoulders. He was a left handed batter, 
so that most of his hits went into right field, or 
rather into the right field bleachers, where they 
counted as home runs. In one season he accumu¬ 
lated twenty-nine home runs, which was a record 
for the major leagues. 

The Yankee owners made a deal with the Red 
Sox by which the “Kid” was brought to the New 
York club at a price larger than had ever been 
paid for a player. It was a good investment, how¬ 
ever, for the newcomer was excelling his home 
run record of the year before and drew so many 
people to the parks where he played that a con¬ 
stant golden stream flowed into the strong boxes 
of the club. He made as many home runs as all 
the other players of his team together. Now, 
owing to his work, the Yankees were fighting it 
out with the Clevelands for the lead, and the 


FALLING BEHIND 


149 


papers were already beginning to talk of the pos¬ 
sibility of both championships coming to New 
York. If this should be the case, the World 
Series games would probably draw the greatest 
crowds that had ever witnessed such a contest, and 
the prize money for the players would undoubtedly 
be larger than ever before in the history of the 
game. 

Joe and his comrades needed no such spur as 
this to make them play their best. A strong loy¬ 
alty to the club marked every player of the team. 
Still it was not at all an unpleasing thought that the 
result of winning would add a good many thou¬ 
sand dollars to the salary of every member. 

The Giants started out in high hopes on this 
second Western invasion. 

“Sixteen games to be played on this trip, boys,” 
McRae had said to them, as they boarded the 
train at the Pennsylvania Station. “And out of 
that sixteen I want at least twelve. Nix on the 
breaking even stuff. That won’t go with me at all. 
I want to get so far ahead on this trip that we’ll 
be on easy street for the rest of the race.” 

“Why not cop the whole sixteen, Mac?” asked 
Larry, with a broad grin. 

“So much the better,” answered McRae. “But 
I’m no hog. Give me an average of three out of 
four in each series and I’ll ask for nothing better.” 

The team started out as though they were going 


150 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

to give their manager what he wanted. Their 
first stop this time was Pittsburgh, and here they 
won the first two games right off the reel. The 
third, however, was lost by a close margin. In 
the fourth the Giants’ bats got going and they sent 
three Pirate pitchers to the showers, winning by 
the one-sided score of eleven to two. So that it was 
in high spirits that they left the Smoky City for 
Cincinnati. 

Here they met with a rude shock. The Reds 
were in the midst of one of their winning streaks 
and were on a hitting rampage. They had the 
“breaks,” too, and cleaned up by taking every 
game. It was a complete reversal, and the Giants 
were stunned. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


IN THE THROES OF A SLUMP 

Robson’s round face had lost its usual smile. 
McRae’s was like a thundercloud, and the players 
evaded him as much as they could. Even Larry 
was “Laughing Larry” no longer. It was a dis¬ 
gruntled crowd of baseball players that shook the 
dust of Cincinnati from their feet and started for 
Chicago. 

“Better luck next time,” Joe comforted his 
mates. “After all it’s the uncertainty of the game 
that makes baseball. How many people would 
have been at the park if they thought their pets 
didn’t have a chance to win?” 

“That’s all very well,” grumbled Curry, “but 
we ought at least to have had our share of the 
breaks. We hit the ball hard enough, but every 
time it went straight to the fielders. They didn’t 
hit any better, but the ball went just out of the 
reach of our fellows. Talk about fool luck! If 
those Cincinnati players fell in the water they’d 
come up with a fish dinner.” 


152 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“That’s just the reason we’re due for a’change,” 
argued Jim. “We’ll get it all back from the 
Cubs.” 

But here again there was disappointment. Joe 
pitched the first game and won in a close fight, 
although the Cubs tied it up in the ninth and Joe 
had to win his own game in the eleventh by a 
homer. But the next two went to Chicago, and in 
the fourth game, which Jim pitched, the best he 
could do was to make it a tie, called in the twelfth 
on account of darkness. 

This time it was not luck that gave to the 
Giants only one game out of three. They had as 
many of the breaks of the game as their oppo¬ 
nents. They simply slumped. One of those mys¬ 
terious things that come to almost every team 
once at least in a season had them in its clutches. 
Perhaps it was overanxiety, perhaps it was a 
superstitious feeling that a “jinx” was after them, 
but, whatever it was, it spread through the team 
like an epidemic. Their fingers were “all 
thumbs.” Their bats had “holes” in them. The 
most reliable fielders slipped up on easy chances. 
They booted the ball, or if they got it they threw 
either too high or too low to first. Double plays 
became less frequent. Two of the best batters in 
the team, Larry and Burkett, fell off woefully in 
their hitting. 

In vain McRae raged and stormed. In vain 


IN THE THROES OF A SLUMP 153 

Robbie begged and pleaded and cajoled. In vain 
Jim and Joe, who still resisted the infection, 
sought to stem the tide of disaster. The members 
of the team with a few exceptions continued to act 
as if they were in a trance. 

McRae did everything in his power to bring 
about a change. He laid off Willis and Iredell, 
and put two promising rookies, Barry and Ward, 
in their places. This added a little speed on the 
bases to the team, but did not materially add to 
the batting or fielding, for the rookies were nerv¬ 
ous and made many misplays, while they were 
lamentably short on the “inside stuff” that takes 
long experience to acquire. He shook up the bat¬ 
ting order. But the hits were still few and far 
between. 

St. Louis gave the Giants a sound trouncing in 
the first game, but in the second the Giants came 
to life and reversed the score. 

Joe was in the box in this contest, and as he 
came in to the bench in the fourth inning, he noted, 
sitting in the grandstand, a figure that seemed 
familiar to him. The man seemed to have seen 
Baseball Joe at the same time, but he hid himself 
behind the form of a big man sitting in front of 
him, so that Joe could not be sure of his identifica¬ 
tion. 

“What were you looking at so steadily, Joe?” 
inquired Jim, as his friend sat down on the bench 


154 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

beside him. “Did you by any chance catch sight 
of the jinx that’s been following us?” he continued 
jokingly. 

“Maybe I did, at that,” replied Joe. “I could 
have sworn that I got a glimpse of Bugs Hartley 
in the grandstand.” 

“Bugs Hartley?” echoed Jim in surprise. 
“How could that old rascal have got as far as 
St. Louis?” 

“Beat his way, perhaps,” answered Joe. “Of 
course I’m not dead sure but that I might have 
been mistaken. And I won’t have much time to 
look for him while I’m in the box. But suppose 
in the meantime you go down to the coaching line 
near first. While you’re pretending to coach, you 
can take an occasional look at the grandstand and 
see if you can pick out Bugs. He’s somewhere 
about the third row near the center. Just where 
the wire netting is broken.” 

Jim did as suggested, and studied the grand¬ 
stand with care. He had only a chance to make 
an affirmative nod of the head as Joe, the inning 
ended, went out again to the box, but when he 
returned after pitching the side out on strikes, 
Jim told Joe that he was right. 

“It’s Bugs all right,” he said. “I had a good 
chance to see that ugly mug of his, and there 
can’t be any mistake. But what in thunder can he 
be doing in St. Louis?” 


IN THE THROES OF A SLUMP 155 

“Oh, panhandling and drinking himself to 
death, I suppose,” answered Joe carelessly, his 
mind intent upon the game. 

“But how did he get here?” persisted Jim. “I 
don’t like it, old man. It takes money to travel, 
and I don’t think Bugs could hustle up railroad 
fare to save his life. And if somebody gave him 
the money to get here, why was it done? I tell 
you again, Joe, I don’t like it.” 

“Well, perhaps it’s just as well we caught sight 
of him,” admitted Joe. “It will help us. to keep 
our eyes open.” 

In the seventh inning for the Giants, with the 
score tied at 3 to 3, Larry started a rally for the 
Giants by lining out a screaming single to right. 
Denton followed with a hit to short that was too 
hot for the shortstop to handle. He knocked the 
ball down, however, and got it to first. Denton 
had thought the play would be made on Larry, 
who was already on his way to third. Denton, 
therefore, had rounded first and started for sec¬ 
ond, but saw the ball coming and scrambled back 
to first. There was a grand mixup, but the um¬ 
pire declared Denton safe. 

It was a close play, and the St. Louis team was 
up in arms in a moment. Some of them, including 
their manager, rushed to the spot to argue with 
the umpire. The crowd also was enraged at the 
decision and began to hoot and howl. One or two 


156 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

pop bottles were thrown at the umpire, but fell 
short. 

Joe, who was next at bat, had taken his stand 
at the plate, awaiting the outcome of the argu¬ 
ment. Suddenly a bottle, aimed with great skill 
and tremendous force, came through the broken 
wire netting, whizzed close by his head, the top of 
it grazing his ear in passing. If it had hit his 
head, it would have injured him greatly beyond a 
doubt. 

Joe turned toward the stand and saw a man 
hastily making his way out toward the entrance. 
He could only see his back, but he knew at once 
to whom that back belonged. 

“Stop him! Stop him!” he shouted, as he 
threw aside his bat and rushed toward the stand. 

But Jim had already vaulted over the barrier 
and was rushing through the aisle. 


CHAPTER XIX 


A CLOSE CALL 

The people in the grandstand had not fully 
grasped the significance of the cowardly attack, as 
the attention of most of them was centered upon 
the dispute at first base. But the shout of Base¬ 
ball Joe and the rush of Jim through the aisle of 
the stand had brought them to their feet, and some 
of them started in pursuit or tried to stop the fly¬ 
ing figure of the fugitive. 

But this very desire of so many to apprehend 
him helped in his escape. Men crowded in the 
aisle, and Jim, who could otherwise have captured 
him, found himself in the midst of a throng that 
effectually hindered his progress. He pushed his 
way through desperately, using his arms and 
hands to clear a passage, but by the time he arrived 
at the outer edge, the man had disappeared. 
Either he had mixed with the enormous crowd or 
had found his way through one of the numerous 
exits. In any event, he was not to be seen, and at 
last Jim, flaming-eyed and dripping with sweat 
i57 


158 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


from his exertions, had to come back empty- 
handed. 

In the meantime, the umpire had asserted his 
authority at first base, and given the St. Louis 
players one minute by his watch to resume play. 
With much muttering and grumbling they obeyed. 
The decision stood, and Larry was on third, while 
Denton danced around on first and “kidded” the 
Cardinal first baseman on the umpire’s decision. 

Joe again took up his position at the plate, the 
fairer-minded among the spectators giving him a 
cheer as he did so, to express their indignation at 
the dastardly attack that had been made on him. 
He was somewhat shaken by the close call he had 
had, and the first two balls were strikes. Then he 
took a grip on himself, and when the next one 
came over he smashed a beauty to right. It went 
for two bases, while Larry scored easily, and Den¬ 
ton by great running and a headlong slide also 
reached the plate. The next man up sacrificed 
Joe to third, but there he remained, as the next 
two batters, despite McRae’s adjurations, were 
not able to bring him in. 

The Giants, however, had now broken the tie 
and had a two-run lead, and although that ended 
their scoring, it was sufficient, as Joe put on extra 
steam and mowed down the Cardinals almost as 
'fast as they came to the bat. One hit was made 
off him for the remainder of the game, but as the 


A CLOSE CALL 


159 

batter got no farther than first there was no dam¬ 
age done. 

Joe and Jim did not care to discuss the matter 
before their mates, and the attack was put down 
to some rowdy who was sore at the umpire’s deci¬ 
sion and took that method of showing it. But the 
two friends knew that it was much more than that. 

“Well, what do you think now of my hunch?” 
demanded Jim, when the chums were alone to¬ 
gether. “Was I right when I said I was uneasy 
about that fellow being in the grandstand?” 

“You certainly were, Jim,” answered Joe. “It 
must have been Bugs who threw that bottle. I 
know at any rate that it was he whom I saw hus¬ 
tling out of the stands. And when I looked at 
where he had been sitting the seat was empty.” 

“It was Bugs all right,” affirmed Jim with deci¬ 
sion. “I saw his face once, when he glanced be¬ 
hind him while he was running. Then, too, only 
a pitcher could have hurled the bottle with the 
swiftness and precision that he did. It went 
nearly as far as the pitcher’s box before it struck 
the ground. Gee! my heart was in my mouth for 
a second when I saw it go whizzing past your ear. 
If it had hit you fair and square, it would have 
been good night.” 

“It did barely touch me,” replied Joe, pointing 
to a scratch on his ear. “The old rascal hasn’t 
forgotten how to throw. How that fellow must 


160 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

hate me! And yet I was the best friend that he 
had on the team.” 

“He hates you all right,” replied Jim. “But it 
wasn’t only his own personal feeling that 
prompted him to do that thing to-day. That 
isn’t Bugs’ way. He’d dope your coffee on the 
sly. Or he’d throw a stone at your head in a dark 
street, as he did that time when we’d started on 
our tour around the world. But to do a thing in 
the open, as he did to-day, means that he had a 
mighty big incentive to lay you out. That incen¬ 
tive was probably money. Somebody has put up 
the cash to send him to St. Louis, and that same 
somebody has probably promised him a big wad of 
dough if he could do you up. The chance came 
to-day, when the fans began to throw bottles at 
the umpire. He figured that that was the time to 
get in his work. If he’d been caught, he could 
have said that he was only one of a good many 
who did the same thing, and that he had no idea 
the bottle was going to hit anybody.” 

“Then you think that Bugs this time was acting 
as the tool of Braxton, or whoever it is that’s try¬ 
ing to put me out of business,” remarked Joe. 

“Think so!” cried Jim. “I’m sure of it. So 
many things, all pointing to deliberate purpose, 
don’t happen by accident. The same fellow who 
hired those auto bandits to cripple you hired Bugs 
for the same purpose. Lots of people have heard 


A CLOSE CALL 


1-61 

of the hatred that Bugs has for you. I suppose 
he’s panning you all the time in the joints where 
he hangs out. This fellow that’s after your hide 
has heard of Bugs and put him on the job. If he 
can’t get you in one way, he’s going to try to get 
you in another. He figures that some time or 
other one of his schemes will go through. Gee!” 
he exclaimed, jumping up and pacing the floor, 
“what would I give just to come face to face with 
him and have him in a room alone with me for 
five minutes. Just five minutes! I’d change his 
face so that his own brother wouldn’t know him.” 

“I hope that job’s reserved for me,” replied 
Joe, as his fist clenched. “He’d get a receipt in 
full for all I owe him.” 

“In the meantime, what shall we do about 
Bugs?” asked Jim anxiously. “He ought to be 
put in jail. It isn’t right that a man who’s tried to 
cripple another should be at large.” 

“No,” agreed Joe, “it isn’t. But I don’t see 
just what we can do about it. The chances are ten 
to one against his being found. Even if he were, 
nobody could be found probably who saw him 
actually throw the bottle. We didn’t ourselves, 
though we feel absolutely certain that he did. He 
could explain his leaving by saying that he was 
taken ill and had to leave. Then, too, if he were 
arrested, we’d have to stay here and prosecute 
him, and we can’t stay away from the team. Be- 


162 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

sides the whale thing would get in the papers, and 
Mabel and Clara and all the folks would have 
heart failure about it. No, I guess we’ll have to 
keep quiet about it.” 

“I suppose we will,” admitted Jim reluctantly. 
“But some day this scoundrel who’s hounding you 
will be caught in the open. And I’m still hoping 
for that five minutes I” 


CHAPTER XX 


SPEEDING UP 

St. Louis was in good form on the following 
day, and a perfect deluge of hits came from their 
bats. The Giants, too, had a good hitting day, 
and the fans who like to see free batting had their 
desire satisfied to the full. And their pleasure was 
all the greater because the home team had the best 
of the duel, and came out on top by a score of 
17 to 12. 

Jim was in the box on the next day, and by 
superb pitching had the St. Louis sluggers hitting 
like a kindergarten team. They simply could not 
solve him. His team mates had scarcely anything 
to do, and only by the narrowest of margins did 
he miss turning the Cardinals back without a hit. 
One hit narrowly escaped the fingers of the second 
baseman, as he leaped in the air for it. But it did 
escape him, and counted for the only hit made by 
the St. Louis in the game. It was a magnificent 
exhibition and wound up a disastrous trip in a 
blaze of glory. 

163 


164 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Still it could not be denied that the trip had put 
a big dent in the Giants’ aspirations for the pen¬ 
nant Instead of the twelve games out of sixteen 
that McRae had asked for, they had only turned 
in six victories. It was the most miserable record 
that the Giants had made for years. 

“And we call ourselves a good road team!” 
snorted Curry in disgust, as they settled down in 
the Pullman for the long ride back from St. Louis 
to New York. “A bunch of school girls could 
have done better work.” 

“Luck was against us,” ventured Larry. “It 
sure was against us.” 

“Luck, nothing!” exclaimed Curry. “We 
simply fell down, and fell down hard. The whole 
League is laughing at us. Look at the way the 
other Eastern teams held up their end. The 
Brooklyns copped ten games, the Bostons got 
eleven, and the Phillies pulled down seven. We 
ought to sneak back into New York on a freight 
train instead of riding in Pullmans.” 

“I guess there won’t be any band at the station 
to meet us,” remarked Joe. “But after all, any 
team is liable to have a slump and play like a lot 
of dubs. Let’s hope we’ve got all the bad playing 
out of our systems. From now on we’re going to 
climb.” 

“That’s the way to talk,” chimed in Jim. “Of 
course we can’t deny that we’ve stubbed our toes 


SPEEDING UP 


165 

on this* trip. But we know in our heart that we’ve 
got the best team in the League. We’ve got the 
Indian sign on all of them. The fans that are 
roasting us now will be shouting their heads off 
when we get started on our winning streak. Re¬ 
member, boys, it’s a long worm that has no 
turning.” 

There was a general laugh at this, and the 
spirits of the party lightened a little. But not all 
of the gloom was lifted. 

The prediction that their reception in New York 
would be rather frosty was true. Such high hopes 
had been built on the result of this trip that the 
reaction was correspondingly depressing. And 
what made the Giants feel the change of attitude 
the more keenly was the fact that while they had 
been doing so poorly, the Yankees at home had 
been going “like a house afire.” They had taken 
the lead definitely away from the Clevelands, and 
it did not seem as though there was any team in 
their League that could stop them. New York 
was quite sure that it was going to have one cham¬ 
pionship team. But it was quite as certain that it 
was not going to have two. That hope had gone 
glimmering. 

Both teams were occupying the Polo Grounds 
for the season, while the new park of the Yankees 
was being completed. The schedule therefore had 
been arranged so that while one of the teams was 


166 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

playing at home the other was playing somewhere 
out of town. 

Thus on the very day the Giants reached home 
the Yankees were starting out on their trip to 
other cities. They went away in the glory of vic¬ 
tory. The Giants came home in the gloom of 
defeat. 

The change of sentiment was visible in the first 
home game that the Giants played. On the pre¬ 
ceding day, at their last game, the Yankees had 
played before a crowd of twenty-five thousand. 
The first game of the Giants drew scarcely more 
than three thousand. Many of these were the 
holders of free season passes, others, like the 
reporters, had to be there, while the rest were 
made up of the chronic fans who followed the 
Giants through thick and thin. There was no 
enthusiasm, and even the fact that the Giants won 
did not dispel the funereal atmosphere. 

And then the Giants began to climb! 

At first the process did not attract much atten¬ 
tion. The public was so thoroughly disheartened 
by the downfall of their favorites in the West, 
that they took it for granted that they were out of 
the running for the pennant. Of course it was 
assumed that they would finish in the first divi¬ 
sion—it was very seldom that a New York team 
could not be depended on to do that—and that by 
some kind of miracle it might be possible to finish 


SPEEDING UP 


167 

second. But there was very little consolation in 
that. New York wanted a winner or nothing. If 
the Giants could not fly the championship flag at 
the Polo Grounds, nobody cared very much 
whether they came in second or eighth or any¬ 
where between. 

The first team to visit the Polo Grounds was the 
Bostons. They had greatly improved their game 
since the beginning of the season, and were even 
thought to have a look-in for the flag. They 
chuckled to themselves at the thought that they 
would catch the Giants in the slump that had be¬ 
gun out West and press them still deeper in the 
direction of the cellar. At first they thought they 
might even make a clean sweep. They lost the 
first game, but only by reason of a muff of an easy 
fly that let in two unearned runs in the sixth. That 
of course disposed of the clean sweep idea, but 
still, three out of four would do. But when they 
lost the second game also, their jubilation began 
to subside. Now the best they could hope for was 
an even break. But again they lost, and the 
climax was put to their discomfiture when the 
Giants simply walked away with the fourth game 
by a score of 10 to o. 

But even with this series of four in a row cap¬ 
tured by the Giants, the public refused to enthuse. 
It might have been only a flash in the pan. It is 
true that the sporting writers were beginning to 


168 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

sit up and take notice. Most of their time hitherto 
had been spent in advising McRae through the 
columns of their paper how he might strengthen 
his team for next year. The present season of 
course was past praying for. Yet there was a dis¬ 
tinct chirking up on the part of the scribes, al¬ 
though they carefully refrained from making any 
favorable predictions that afterward they might 
be sorry for. They would wait awhile and see. 
Besides, the Brooklyns were coming next, and they 
had usually found it easy to defeat the Giants. If 
the Giants could hold the men from over the big 
bridge to an even break, it might mean a great 
deal. 

The Brooklyns came, saw and—were conquered. 
Four times in succession they went down before 
superb pitching and heavy batting. Four times 
they called on their heavy sluggers and their best 
boxmen, but the Giants rode over them roughshod. 
The sporting writers sat up and rubbed their eyes. 
Was this the same team that had come home for¬ 
lorn and bedraggled after their last trip? Had 
the Giants really come to life? Was the pennant 
still a possibility? 

By this time the public had begun to wake up. 
The stands at the Polo Grounds no longer looked 
like a desert. The crowds began to pack the sub¬ 
way cars on their way up to the grounds. Every¬ 
where the question was beginning to be asked: 


SPEEDING UP 169 

“What do you think of the Giants? Have they 
still got a chance ?” 

It was the Phillies’ turn next, and they had also 
to bend the knee. The Giants took them into camp 
as easily as they had the Braves and the Dodgers. 
And to rub it in, two of the games were shutouts. 

Twelve games in a row, and the Giants tearing 
through the other teams like so many runaway 
horses I 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE WINNING STREAK 

The Giants were in for a winning streak, and 
New York City promptly went baseball mad! 

Now there was no question of filling the 
grounds. It was rather a question of getting there 
early enough to secure seats. 

The Polo Grounds could accommodate thirty- 
five thousand, and again and again that number 
was reached and exceeded. The great amphi¬ 
theatre was a sea of eager faces. Fans stood in 
hundreds in the rear of the upper grandstands. 
The lower stand too was filled to overflowing, and 
the bleachers were packed. It was astonishing how 
many business men closed their rolltop desks with 
a bang on those summer afternoons. Young and 
old alike were wild to be at the games and see the 
Giants add one more to their rapidly mounting list 
of victories. 

Thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen! Were 

the Giants ever going to be stopped? If so, who 
was going to stop them? The Western teams 
170 


THE WINNING STREAK 


171 

were coming now and the St. Louis team had left 
their scalps in the Giant’s wigwam. Chicago was 
next in line. Could they stop the Giants in their 
mad rush for the flag? 

They could not, although they tried desperately, 
and Brennan, their resourceful manager, used all 
the cunning and guile that his long experience had 
taught him. The Giants tamed the Cubs with a 
thoroughness that left nothing to be desired from 
a New York point of view. And now the string 
of victories had mounted to twenty. 

Old records were got out and furbished up. It 
was found that once before, when Markwith and 
Hughson were in their prime, the New Yorks had 
won twenty-six games in a row. Could they 
repeat? Could they beat their own record that 
had been hung up so long for other teams to aim 
at? That was the question that absorbed public 
interest, not only in New York, but in baseball 
circles all over the country. 

The reason for this phenomenal spurt of the 
Giants, it was recognized, could be found in two 
chief factors. One was the wonderful work being 
done by Joe both as a pitcher and a batter. The 
other was the marvelous advance that had been 
made by Jim as a twirler. 

Joe had never had such complete mastery of the 
ball as he wa9 showing this season. Even the 
pitching he had done the previous year, in the 


172 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

World Series between the Giants and the Sox, 
paled in comparison with what he was doing now. 
His control was something almost magical. It 
was such a rarity for him to give a base on balls 
that when it happened it was specially noted by 
the sporting writers. He worked the corners of 
the plate to perfection. He mixed up his fast ones 
with slow teasers that made the opposing batsmen 
look ridiculous as they broke their backs reaching 
for them. His slants and twists and hops and 
curves had never been so baffling. It was fast get¬ 
ting to the point where the other teams were half 
beaten as soon as they saw Joe pick up his glove 
and go into the box. 

But it was not even his pitching, great as it was, 
that held the worshiping attention of the crowds. 
It was the home run record that he was piling up 
in such an amazing fashion that already he was 
rated by many the equal of the wonderful Kid 
Rose. That wonderful eye of his had learned to 
time the ball so accurately as it came up to the 
plate that the bat met it at precisely the hundredth 
part of a second when it did the most good. Then 
all his mighty arm and shoulder leaned on the 
ball and gave it wings. Almost every other game 
now saw a home run chalked up to his credit. In 
three games of the winning streak he had made 
two home runs in a single game. It was common 
talk that he was out to tie the record of Ed Dele- 


THE WINNING STREAK 


173 


hanty, the one-time mighty slugger of the Phillies, 
who in the years of long ago had hung up a record 
of four homers in a game. He had not done it 
yet, but there was still time before the season 
closed. 

More still would have gone to his credit had 
not the opposing pitchers become so afraid of him 
that they would not let him hit the ball. Again 
and again when he came to the bat, the catcher 
would stand away off to the side and the pitcher 
would deliberately send over four balls, so wide 
that Joe could not possibly reach them without 
stepping out of the box. This was a mighty dis¬ 
appointment to the crowds, half of whom had 
come with no other object in view than to see Joe 
smash out a homer. They would jeer and taunt 
the pitcher for his cowardice in fearing to match 
his slants against Joe’s bat, but the practice con¬ 
tinued nevertheless. 

Even this, however, was not a total loss to the 
Giants. It put Joe on first anyway, and counted 
at least for as much as a single would have done. 
And Joe was so fleet of foot on the bases that Mc¬ 
Rae once said jokingly that he would have to have 
detectives on the field to keep him from stealing 
so many bags. Many a base on balls thus given 
to Joe out of fear for his mighty bat was eventu¬ 
ally turned into a run that helped to win the game. 

One morning when Joe, with the rest of the 


174 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Giant team, was going out on the field for prac¬ 
tice, his eye caught sight of a long white streak of 
kalsomine that ran up the right field wall to the 
top, behind the bleachers. 

“What’s the idea?” he asked, turning to 
Robbie, who was close beside him. 

“Don’t you really know, you old fence- 
breaker?” asked Robbie, a smile breaking over 
his jovial face. 

“Blest if I do,” answered Joe. 

“Well, I’ll tell you,” answered Robbie. “The 
fact is that you’ve got into such a habit of knock¬ 
ing the ball into the right field stands—mighty 
good habit, too, if you ask me—that the umpires 
have asked us to paint this line so that they can 
see whether the hit is fair or foul. The ordinary 
hit they can tell easy enough. But yours are so 
far out that they have to have especial help in 
judging them. It’s the first time it’s had to be 
done for any hitter in the history of the game. 
Some compliment, what?” 

But Joe’s work, wonderful as it was, would not 
alone have started and maintained the Giants’ win¬ 
ning streak. No one man, however great,, can 
carry a whole team on his shoulders. The next 
most important element was the pitching that Jim 
was showing. It was only second in quality to 
that turned in by Joe himself. Jim was a natural 
ball player, and his close association and friend- 


THE WINNING STREAK 


175 


ship with Joe had taught him all the fine points of 
the game. He had learned the weaknesses of oppos¬ 
ing batters. He knew those who would bite at an 
outcurve and those to whom a fast high one was 
poison; those who would offer at the first ball and 
those who would try to wait him out; those who 
would crowd the plate and those who would flinch 
when he wound the ball around their necks. He 
had a splendid head on his shoulders and a world 
of power in his biceps; and those two things go 
far to make a winning combination. 

Another element of strength was the return of 
Hughson to the team and his ability to take his 
regular turn in the box. His arm still hurt him, 
and it was beginning to be evident that he would 
never again be the Hughson of old. But his skill 
and knowledge of the game and the batters was so 
great that it more than atoned for the weakness of. 
his pitching arm. His control was as wonderful 
as ever, and he nursed his arm as much as possible. 
He did not attempt to do much striking out, as 
that would have been too severe a strain. More 
and more he let the batsmen hit the ball, and de¬ 
pended upon the eight men behind him to back 
him up. Often he would go through an inning this 
way and the three put outs would be made by the 
infield on grounders and the outfielders on flies. 
But once let a man get on first and the “Old 
Master” would tighten up and prevent scoring. 


176 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

By thus favoring his arm, he was able to turn in 
his share of the victories. 

Markwith also had a new lease of life, and was 
winging them over as in the days when he had 
been without question the best port side flinger in 
the League. 

In fact the pitching staff was at the height of its 
form and had never been going better. And the 
rest of the team, without exception, was playing 
great ball. There was not a cripple on the list. 
Willis and Iredell had been restored to their posi¬ 
tions at third and short respectively, and were 
playing the best ball of their careers. With Larry 
at second and Burkett at first, they formed a 
stonewall infield that seldom let anything get away 
from them. They made hair-raising stops and 
dazzling double plays, gobbling up grounders on 
either side, spearing high liners that were ticketed 
for singles, and played like supermen. The out¬ 
fielders had caught the spirit of enthusiasm that 
pervaded the team, and were making what seemed 
like impossible catches. Add to this that the team 
members were batting like fiends and running 
bases like so many ghosts, and the reason for the 
winning streak becomes apparent. The Giants 
were simply playing unbeatable ball. 

So the Cincinnatis found when the time came 
for their heads to drop into the basket. That 
series was sweet revenge for the Giants, who had 


THE WINNING STREAK 


*77 

not forgotten the beating the Reds had given them 
on their last swing around the circuit. 

Twenty-one — twenty-two — twenty-three — 
twenty-four. Two more games to tie their own 
previous record. Three more to beat it. Would 
they do it? 

Many shook their heads. On the mere law of 
averages, a break for the Giants was now due. 
The team had been under a fearful strain. Such 
phenomenal work could not last forever. 

Besides, the severest test was now at hand. The 
Pittsburghs were coming. The Smoky City boys 
had been playing great ball themselves. They 
had won nineteen games out of the last twenty- 
four, and the margin of seven games that they had 
had when the Giants began their streak still kept 
them in the lead by two games. They had boasted 
that they would break the Giants’ streak as soon 
as they struck New York. 

The time had come to- make good their boast. 
Would they do it? 


CHAPTER XXII 


STRIVING FOR MASTERY 

It was Jim’s turn to go on the mound in the 
first game with the Pittsburghs, and in the prac¬ 
tice work before the game he showed that he was 
keyed up for his work. For so comparatively 
young a pitcher, he might well have been a bit 
nervous at facing so redoubtable a team before the 
immense crowd that had gathered to see whether 
or not the Giants’ winning streak was doomed to 
be broken. But there was no trace of it in his 
manner, and McRae, looking him over, concluded 
that there was no reason to change his selection. 

His confidence was justified. Jim that after¬ 
noon was at as high a point of pitching form as 
he had ever reached in his career. He pitched a 
masterly game and held the Pirate sluggers to 
four hits. His support was all that could be de¬ 
sired, and some of the stops and throws of his 
comrades bordered on the miraculous. The Giants 
came out at the big end of the score, their tally 
being three to the solitary run scored by their 
opponents. 


178 


STRIVING FOR MASTERY 


179 


“Twenty-five!” chuckled Joe, as he slapped his 
friend on the back, when the Pirates had been 
turned back in their half of ninth. “Jim, you’re a 
lulu! You had those fellows rolling over and 
playing dead.” 

“I guess we had all the breaks,” returned Jim, 
smiling modestly. 

“Nothing of the kind,” disclaimed Joe. “If 
anything, they had whatever breaks there were. 
It was simply a case of dandy pitching. You had 
them buffaloed.” 

“Only one more game to go before we tie our 
own record,” said Jim. “Gee, Joe, I wish you 
were going to pitch to-morrow. We’re just in 
sight of the Promised Land. That will be the 
most important game of all.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Joe. “It will be 
something to tie the record, but I want to break it. 
Day after to-morrow will be the big day. That 
is, if we win to-morrow, and I think we shall. 
It’s Markwith’s turn to go in, and he’s going fine. 
The Pittsburghs aren’t any too good against left- 
handed pitchers, anyway.” 

But whatever the alleged weakness of the 
Pirates against southpaws, they showed little 
respect for Markwith’s offerings on the next day. 
They had on their batting clothes and clouted the 
ball lustily. Only phenomenal fielding on the part 
of the Giants kept the score down, and again and 


180 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

again Markwith was pulled out of a hole by some 
dazzling bit of play when a run seemed certain. 
Still he worried through until the first part of the 
eighth. At that time the score was five to four 
in favor of the visitors. The Giants had been 
batting freely, but not quite as hard as the Pirates. 

In the eighth, Markwith was plainly beginning 
to- wobble in his control. He passed two men in 
quick succession. That was enough for McRae, 
and Joe, who had been warming up at the right 
of the grandstand, was sent into the box. 

The Pirates’ scoring stopped then and there. 
Astley, who was at the bat, fanned on three suc¬ 
cessive strikes. Brown hit to the box and Joe 
made a lightning throw to Larry at second, who 
relayed it to first for a sparkling double play, put¬ 
ting out the side. 

The Giants’ half of the eighth was scoreless. 
All the Pittsburghs had to do now was to hold 
them down for one more inning, and the winning 
streak would be broken. 

Joe made short work of the visitors in their 
last inning and the Giants came in for their final 
half. 

Willis was the first man up. He made a sav¬ 
age lunge at the first ball pitched, but caught it on 
the under side, and it went up directly over the 
plate. Jenkins the Pittsburgh catcher, did not 
have to move from his tracks to gather it in. 


STRIVING FOR MASTERY 181 

Larry sent a fierce low liner to Baskerville at short, 
who made a magnificent catch, picking it off his 
shoe tops. Two out, and the crowd fairly groaned 
as the winning streak seemed at last about to be 
broken. 

All hopes were now pinned on Denton. All he 
could do, however, was to dribble a slow one to 
the box. It seemed a certain out, and nine times 
out of ten would have been. But the Pittsburgh 
pitcher, in running in on it, snatched it up so hur¬ 
riedly that it fell out of his hand. He recovered 
it in an instant and shot it to first. But that 
fumble had been fatal, and Denton by a headlong 
slide reached first before the ball. 

A tremendous roar arose from the stands, and 
the people who had started to leave sat down sud¬ 
denly and sat down hard. 

In the Giants* dugout, all was excitement and 
animation. McRae ran down to first to coach 
Denton. Robbie rushed over to Joe, who was 
next in turn and had already picked up his bat. 

“For the love of Pete, Joe,” he begged, “paste 
the old apple. Show them again what you’ve been 
showing us all along. Kill the ball! Just once, 
Joe, just once! You can do it. One good crack, 
and you’ll save the winning streak.” 

“I’ll do my best,” was Joe’s reply. 

Frantic adjurations of the same nature were 
showered on Joe as he took up his position at the 


182 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

plate. Then there was a great silence, as the 
crowd fairly held their breath. 

But the crafty Pittsburgh pitcher was to be 
reckoned with. He had no mind to see the game 
go glimmering just at the moment it seemed to be 
won. He signaled to his catcher and deliberately 
pitched two balls wide of the plate. It was evi¬ 
dent that he was going to give Joe his base on balls 
and take a chance with Mylert, the next batter. 

But the best laid plans sometimes miscarry. 
The third ball he pitched did not go as wide of 
the plate as he had meant it should. Joe sized it 
up, saw that he could reach it, and swung for it 
with all his might. 

There was a crack like that of a rifle as the bat 
met the ball and sent it mounting ever higher and 
higher toward the right field wall. It seemed as 
though it were endowed with wings. On it went 
in a mighty curve and landed at last in the top¬ 
most row of the right field seats. There it was 
pocketed by a proud and happy fan, while Joe, 
sending in Denton ahead of him, jogged easily 
around the bases to the home plate. The game 
was won! The winning streak was saved 1 The 
Giants had tied their record, which had stood un¬ 
touched for so many years! 

The scene in the stands and bleachers beggared 
description. Roar after roar went up, while the 
crazy spectators threw their straw hats into the air 


STRIVING FOR MASTERY 183 

and scattered them by scores over the field. The 
Polo Grounds had been transformed into a mad¬ 
house, but differing from other insane asylums in 
that all the inmates were happy. All, that is, 
except the Pirates and their supporters, who 
thought unspeakable things as they saw the game 
in a twinkling torn from their grasp. 

Joe’s only escape from his enthusiastic well- 
wishers lay in flight, and he made a bee line for 
the clubhouse. He got inside not a moment too 
soon. For a long time afterward a great crowd 
hung about the entrance, waiting for him to reap¬ 
pear, and it was only by slipping out of a back 
entrance that he eluded them. 

The old record had been tied. Could it be 
beaten? 


CHAPTER XXIII 


HOLDING THEM DOWN 

Baseball circles had rarely been more deeply 
stirred than by the issue of the game, by winning 
which the Giants had tied their record. It was not 
merely the winning, but the sensational way in 
which Baseball Joe’s home run had turned the 
scales in the last minute and snatched victory 
from defeat that excited the fans. 

But now that the record was tied, would the 
Giants be able to hang up a new one ? That was 
the question on every lip, the question whose dis¬ 
cussion filled column after column of the sporting 
pages of the newspapers. 

All agreed that the Giants had been lucky to 
win. If it had not been for the error of the pitcher 
on Denton’s slow dribble, they would have lost. 
But it was conceded that it was not luck that had 
secured that mighty home run that Joe had 
hammered out to the bleachers. That was ball 
playing. That was muscle. That was determi¬ 
nation. Once again his cool head and quick eye 
184 


HOLDING THEM DOWN 185 

and powerful arm had shown that the game was 
not over until the last man was out. 

It was Joe’s turn to pitch, and it was upon that 
fact more than anything else that the vast crowd 
that stormed the Polo Grounds relied for annex¬ 
ing the twenty-seventh game. The Pitts'burghs 
too were holding out their star pitcher, Hooper, 
for that critical game, and it was certain that they 
would put forth superhuman efforts to win. 

In more senses than one, the game was an im¬ 
portant one. The last two victories of the Giants 
had wiped out the lead that the Pirates had had 
over them, and the two teams were now on even 
terms in games won and lost for the season, so 
that the Pirates had a double incentive to win. If 
they took the game they would not only prevent 
the Giants from breaking their own record for a 
winning streak, but would also once more stand 
at the head of the League. 

“It’s up to you, Joe,” McRae said, just before 
the bell rang for the game to begin. “How are 
you feeling? Are you tired at all from pitching 
those last two innings yesterday?” 

“Not a bit tired,” replied Joe promptly. “That 
little work yesterday was just the practice I needed 
to get into form. I’m feeling as fine as silk.” 

“You look it,” said the manager admiringly, as 
his eye took in the strong, lithe figure, the bronzed 
face and clear eyes of his star pitcher. “Well go 


186 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

in now Joe and eat them up. Hooper will be in 
the box for them, and I’m not denying that he’s 
some pitcher. But he never saw the day that you 
couldn’t run rings around him. Go in and win.” 

It was evident from the start that there would 
be no such free hitting that day as there had been 
the day before. Both boxmen were in superb form, 
and by the time the first inning for each side was 
over, the spectators had settled down to witness a 
pitcher’s duel. 

Hooper was a spitball artist, and his moist 
slants kept the Giants guessing in the early part of 
the game. But while he depended chiefly on this 
form of delivery, he had other puzzlers in his 
assortment, and he mixed them up in a most decep¬ 
tive manner. In the first three innings he had 
four strike-outs to his credit, and when the Giants 
did connect with the ball it went up into the air and 
into the hands of some waiting fielder. His con¬ 
trol of the slippery sphere also was excellent, and 
he issued no passes. 

In the fourth inning, the Giants began to nibble 
at his offerings. Curry rapped one out to right 
for the first single of the game. Iredell was 
robbed of a hit by a great jumping catch of O’Con¬ 
nor, who speared the ball with his gloved hand. 
Burkett lined out a two-bagger that carried 
Curry easily to third, but in trying to stretch the 
hit, he was caught by Ralston’s magnificent throw 


HOLDING THEM DOWN 187 

to the plate. Burkett in the meantime had made 
a dash for third, but thought better of it, and 
scrambled back to second just in time. The next 
man up went out from short to first and the inning 
ended without scoring. But the Giants had proved 
to themselves that Hooper could be hit, and it was 
with renewed confidence that they took their places 
in the field. 

Joe in the meantime was mowing his opponents 
down with the regularity of a machine. His 
mighty arm swung back and forth like a piston 
rod. He had never cared for the spitball, as he 
knew that sooner or later it destroyed a pitcher’s 
effectiveness. But in his repertoire of curves and 
slants he had weapons far more deadly. His fast 
straight one whizzed over the plate like a bullet. 
He mixed these up with a slow, dipping curve that 
the Pirates endeavored in vain to solve. Only 
with the head of the Pittsburgh batting order did 
he at times resort to the fadeaway. That he kept 
in reserve for some moment when danger threat¬ 
ened. Twice in the first five innings he set down 
the side on strikes, and not a man reached first on 
balls. It was wonderful pitching, and again and 
again Joe was forced to doff his cap to the cheers 
of the crowd, as he came into the bench. 

In the sixth inning, the Giants got busy. 
Wheeler lashed out a whale of a three-bagger to 
left. Willis laid down a neat sacrifice, bringing 


188 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Wheeler home for the first run of the game. 
Larry hit the ball on the seam for a single, but was 
caught a moment later in trying to purloin second. 
The next batter up went out on strikes' and 
the inning ended with the Giants one run to the 
good. 

The seventh inning came and passed and not a 
hit had been made by the Pirates. Then it began 
to be realized that Joe was out for a no-hit game, 
and the crowd rooted for him madly. 

Joe himself was about the only cool man on the 
grounds. He measured every man that came to 
the plate and took his time about pitching to him. 
Man after man he fanned or made him hit feeble 
grounders to the infield. And that wonderful con¬ 
trol of his forbade any passes. The Pirates did 
not dare to wait him out. It was a case of strike 
or be struck out, and so they struck at the ball, but 
usually struck only the empty air. 

That ball! Sometimes it was a wheedling, 
coaxing ball, that sauntered up to the plate as 
though just begging to be hit. Again it was a van¬ 
ishing ball that grew smaller from the time it left 
Joe’s hand until it became a mere pin point as it 
glinted over the rubber. Still again it was a sav¬ 
age ball that shot over the plate with a rush and 
a hiss that made the batter jump back. But 
always it was a deceptive ball, that slipped by, 
hopped by, loafed by, twisted by, dodged by, and 


HOLDING THEM DOWN 189 

the Pirate sluggers strained their backs as well as 
their tempers in trying to hit it. 

McRae and Robbie on the bench watched with 
fascination and delight the work of their king 
pitcher. 

“It’s magic, I tell you, John, just magic!” 
blurted out Robbie, as another victim went out on 
strikes and threw down his bat in disgust. 

“It sure looks like it,” grinned McRae. u He 
has those fellows jumping through the hoops all 
right. I’m free to say I never saw anything like 
it.” 

“He’s got the ball trained, I tell you,” per¬ 
sisted Robbie, rubbing his hands in jubilation. 
It’s an educated ball. It does just what Joe tells 
it to.” 

Almost uncontrollable excitement prevailed as 
the Pirates came in for their last inning. Their 
heaviest sluggers were coming to the bat, and now 
if ever was the time to do something. They 
figured that the strain must have told on Joe and 
that a crack was due. 

Their hope grew dimmer, however, when Ral¬ 
ston, after fouling oft two, fanned on the third 
strike. But it revived again when Baskerville 
rolled an easy one to Larry, that the latter 
fumbled for a moment and then hurled to first a 
fraction of a second too late. 

There was a roar of glee from the Pirates, and 


190 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

they began to chatter in the hope of rattling the 
pitcher. Bemis, the next man up, came to the 
plate swinging three bats. He discarded two of 
them and glared at Joe. 

“Here’s where you meet your finish,” he 
boasted, as he brandished his bat. 

Joe merely smiled and put one over. Bemis 
drove it straight for the box. Joe leaped into the 
air, caught it in his ungloved hand and shot it 
like lightning to first, catching Baskerville before 
he could get back. 

It was as pretty a double play as had ever been 
made on the New York grounds! 


CHAPTER XXIV 


A CRUSHING BLOW 

The play had been so swift that the eye could 
scarcely follow the ball, and it was a few seconds 
before the majority of the spectators could grasp 
what had happened. 

Then a tremendous shout went up that rolled 
across the field in increasing volume as the crowds 
realized that they had seen what would probably 
never be seen again in a single game. They had 
seen the New York team break its own record for 
straight wins, and in addition they had witnessed 
that rarest of pitching exploits, a no-hit game. 
Not even a scratch hit had marred Joe’s wonder¬ 
ful performance, nor had he given a single base on 
balls. It was a red-letter days for the Giants and 
for Joe, and the people who had been there would 
talk about that game for years. 

If any one should have been elated by the 
marvelous result of that day’s work, it was Joe. 
He had never stood on a higher pinnacle, except 
perhaps when he had won the last game of the 


192 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

World Series the preceding year. He was more 
than ever a hero in the eyes of the baseball public 
of New York, and within five minutes after the 
game was over the wires had flashed the news to 
every city of the country. But despite his natural 
pride in his achievement and his pleasure in know¬ 
ing that he had won this critical game for his 
team, it was a very subdued and worried Joe that 
hurried to the clubhouse after the game was over. 
There his mates gathered, in the seventh heaven 
of delight, and there was a general jubilee, in 
which McRae and Robson joined. 

“We did it, we did it!” cried Robbie, bouncing 
about like a rubber ball in his excitement. “We 
broke the record! Twenty-seven games in a row!” 

“Where do you get that ‘we’ stuff, you old por¬ 
poise,” grinned McRae, poking him jovially in the 
ribs. “Seems to me that Joe had something to do 
with it. Put it there, Matson,” he went on, 
extending his hand. “You pitched a game that 
will go down in baseball history and you saved our 
winning streak from going up in smoke.” 

Joe put out his left hand, and McRae looked a 
little surprised. Then he glanced down at Joe’s 
right hand, and a look of consternation swept over 
his face. 

“Great Scott!” he cried. “What’s the matter 
with your hand? It’s swelled to twice its usual 
size.” 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


193 


“It was that drive of Bemis’, I guess,” replied 
Joe. “When I nabbed it, I seemed to feel some* 
thing crack in the hand. Perhaps, though, it’s 
only strained. It will probably be all right by 
to-morrow.” 

“To-morrow!” roared McRae, as all crowded 
around anxiously. “There’ll be no waiting till 
to-morrow. That hand is worth a half million 
dollars to the New York club, to say nothing of 
its worth to yourself. Where’s the trainer? 
Where’s the doctor? Jump, some of you fellows, 
and get them here quick!” 

There was a general scurrying around, and in a 
few minutes both of those men were examining 
the injured hand with the greatest solicitude. 
They looked grave when they had finished. 

“It’s hard to tell just what has happened until 
the swelling has been reduced,” pronounced the 
doctor, as he busied himself with splints and 
lotions. “I’m afraid, though, that it’s more than 
a sprain. When it swells as much as that it gen¬ 
erally means that a bone has been broken.” 

There was a general groan. 

“That means, does it, that he will be out of the 
game for the rest of the season?” asked McRae, 
in notes of despair. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” the doctor hastened 
to reassure him. “It may be only a trifling frac¬ 
ture, and in that case he will have to be out only 


i 9 4 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

for a short time. But for the next few weeks any¬ 
way, he isn’t likely to do any more pitching.” 

“Who’s the best specialist in New York?” 
demanded McRae. 

The doctor named a surgeon of national repu¬ 
tation. 

“ ’Phone him to come at once,” commanded 
McRae. “Or, better yet, Joe, you’d better come 
right with me now. My car’s outside and I’ll get 
you up there in fifteen minutes. Every minute 
counts now.” 

Joe hurriedly finished dressing, and McRae 
bundled him into his automobile. It was a speedy 
machine, and it was to be feared that the traffic 
laws were not strictly observed as it made its way 
downtown. But the traffic policemen all knew 
McRae and Joe, and there was nothing to prevent 
their getting to their destination in record time. 

A telephone call from the clubhouse had already 
notified the eminent surgeon that the pair were 
coming, and he was waiting for them. Without 
a moment’s delay, they were ushered into his 
inner office, where he stripped off the bandages 
from the hand and made a thorough examination. 

“There is a small dislocation,” he said when he 
had finished. “But I think it will yield readily to 
treatment. It will not be a permanent injury, and 
in a little while the hand will be as good as ever.” 

Both drew a sigh of immense relief. 


A CRUSHING BLOW 


195 


“A little while,” repeated McRae. “Just what 
do you mean by that, Doctor? You know we’re 
fighting for the pennant, and we’re depending on 
this king pitcher of ours more than on any one else 
to win out. Every day he’s out of the race weak¬ 
ens our chances.” 

“I can’t tell that definitely until to-morrow 
morning,” the doctor replied. “But offhand I 
should say for two or three weeks at least.” 

“Two or three weeks!” repeated McRae in 
tones of mingled dismay and relief. “In those 
two or three weeks we may lose the flag. But 
thank heaven it’s no worse.” 

After making an appointment for the next 
morning, McRae drove Joe to his hotel. 

“It’s bad enough, Joe,” he said to him in part¬ 
ing. “I don’t know how we’re going to spare you 
while we’re in the thick of the fight. But when I 
think of what it would mean to the team if you 
were knocked out altogether, I’ve got no kick 
coming. We’re ahead of the Pittsburghs now, 
anyway, thanks to your splendid work, and if we 
can just hold our own till you get back, we’ll pull 
out all right yet.” 

Joe found Jim waiting for him, full of anxiety 
and alarm. But his face lighted up when he 
learned that the injury was not a permanent one. 

“It would have been a mighty sight better to 
have lost the game to-day than to have bought it 


196 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

at such a price,” he said. “But after all, nothing 
matters as long as your hand is safe. That hand 
is your fortune.” 

“To-day was my unlucky day,” remarked Joe 
ruefully, as he looked at his bandaged hand. 

“In one sense it was,” replied Jim, “but in an¬ 
other it wasn’t. To-day you hung up a record. You 
saved the Giants’ winning streak and you pitched 
a no-hit game!” 


CHAPTER XXV 


LINING THEM OUT 

The pain in his injured hand was intense that 
night, and Joe paced the floor for hours before he 
was able to get to sleep. By morning, however, 
the hand had yielded to treatment, and the swell¬ 
ing had greatly decreased. At the earliest hour 
possible Joe, accompanied by Jim, was at the sur¬ 
geon’s office. 

The doctor’s face expressed his satisfaction, as, 
after an examination, he rendered his verdict. 

“It isn’t as bad as I feared,” he said while he 
deftly rebandaged the injured member. “This 
dislocation is slight and you’ll soon be as right as 
ever. But you’ve got to take good care of it. It 
will be some time before you can pitch.” 

“But how about batting?” asked Joe anxiously. 
“That isn’t a steady strain, as I’d only have to 
do it three or four times in the course of the 
game.” 

“I don’t know,” replied the doctor with a smile. 
“I’m not familiar enough with the game to tell 
197 


198 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

where the strain comes in that case. I can im¬ 
agine, however, that it would be chiefly in the arm 
and shoulder. It’s possible that you may be able 
to bat before you can pitch. But I can tell more 
about that later on, as I see how your hand mends. 
For the present, you’ll have to go slow.” 

The sporting writers had no reason to complain 
of the dullness of news for that day’s issue. The 
papers were ringing with the stirring events of the 
day before. Columns of space were devoted to 
the story of the game, and there was unstinted 
praise of Joe for his wonderful exploit. 

But mingled with the jubilation was a strain of 
apprehension. The accident that had befallen the 
great pitcher was a subject of the keenest anxiety. 
It was recognized that a great blow had 1 been 
struck at the Giants’ hope for the pennant. To 
have the greatest twirler of the team put out of 
the game just in the hottest part of the fight was a 
disaster that might prove fatal. Pittsburgh stock 
took a decided upward bound in consequence. 

The effect on the Giants themselves, as far as 
their morale was concerned, was almost certain to 
be hurtful. The tremendous strain under which 
they had been, while compiling their twenty-seven 
consecutive wins, had brought them to a point 
where a sudden blow like this might make them go 
to pieces. 

As a matter of fact, that is just what did hap- 


LINING THEM OUT 


199 


pen to them that very afternoon. The whole team 
was depressed and had a case of nerves. They 
played like a lot of schoolboys, booting the ball, 
slipping up on easy grounders and muffing flies 
that ordinarily they could have caught with 
ease. 

The Pittsburghs, on the other hand, played 
with redoubled skill and courage. Their hopes 
had been revived by the misfortune that had be¬ 
fallen their most dangerous opponent. Joe was 
personally popular with all the players of the 
League, and they were sorry that he was hurt. 
But that did not prevent them from taking advan¬ 
tage of the chance to make hay while the sun 
shone. 

The game developed into a farce after the third 
inning,-and from that time on it was only a ques¬ 
tion of the size of the score. When the game 
ended, the Giant outfielders were leg-weary from 
chasing hits, and the visitors were equally tired 
from running bases. The Pittsburghs won by a 
score of 17 to 3, and the Giants’ winning streak 
came to an end. 

But for once the team escaped a roasting from 
McRae. The team had done wonderful work, 
and any nine that wins twenty-seven games in 
succession has a right to lose the twenty-eighth. 
Besides the break was due, and the manager hoped 
that with this one bad game out of their systems 


200 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

the team would pull itself together and start an¬ 
other rally. 

For the next week or two, the race see-sawed 
between the two leading teams. By this time it 
had become generally recognized that the pen* 
nant lay between them. The other contestants had 
occasional spurts, when great playing for a short 
period would revive the waning hopes of their ad¬ 
mirers, but they soon fell back again in the ruck. 
It was quite certain that the flag would fly either 
over Forbes Field or over the Polo Grounds. 

In the meantime, Joe’s hand was mending rap¬ 
idly. His superb physical condition helped him 
greatly, and the doctor was visibly surprised and 
gratified by the progress of his patient. But it 
was hard work for Joe to be laid off just at the 
time that his team needed him most. Still he be¬ 
lieved in the proverb “the more haste the less 
speed,” and he tried to be patient, even while he 
was “chafing at the bit.” 

About ten days after the accident, the doctor 
delighted him by telling him that he need not 
come to see him any more. But he still ordered 
him to refrain from pitching. As to batting, he 
said cautiously that Joe could try that out a little 
at a time. If he found that after easy batting 
practice his hand did not hurt him, he might be 
permitted to bat in an actual game. 

Joe was quick to avail himself of the permis- 


LINING THEM OUT 


201 


sion. Very cautiously he tried batting out fungo 
hits. While at first the hand felt a little sore and 
stiff, this soon passed off. Then Joe had Jim pitch 
him some easy ones in practice, and found that he 
could line them out without ill effects. Finally he 
let Jim put them over at full speed, and was 
delighted to find that he could lift them into the 
right field stands and not suffer much of a twinge. 
At last he was himself again, as far at least as 
batting was concerned. 

His recovery came just in time to be of immense 
benefit to the team. The men had slumped con¬ 
siderably in batting, though they still held up to 
their usual form in fielding. But fielding alone 
cannot win games. Defensive work is all very 
well, but combined with it must be the offensive 
work on the part of the batsmen. The best field¬ 
ing in the world cannot put runs over the plate. 

Joe’s return put new spirit into the team at once. 
The batting picked up noticeably, with Joe leading 
the way. At first he was a little cautious about 
putting his whole strength into his blow, and for 
a few days when he was used in emergencies as a 
pinch hitter, he gathered a crop of singles with an 
occasional double and triple. But with every suc¬ 
cessive day he let out a new link, and at length he 
put his whole strength into his swing. Home runs 
became again a common feature, and the Giants 
started in joyously on a new upward climb. 


202 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

The season was to end this year in the West, and 
by the time the Giants started on their last swing 
around the circuit, they had a lead of four games 
over the Pirates. It was not necessarily a winning 
lead, but it was very comforting just the same to 
have those four games as a margin. Still, the 
Pittsburghs were hanging on gamely, ready to 
forge to the front on the least sign of weakening 
shown by their competitors. It was one of the 
hottest races that had ever been seen in the Na¬ 
tional League, and there was a chance that it 
would not be decided until the last day of the 
season. 

“The last lap,” remarked Jim, as the team 
started on its trip. “Here’s where we win or 
lose.” 

“Here’s where we win,” corrected Joe. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

THE TIRELESS FOE 

The Giants opened at Chicago, and the results 
were none too good. The Cubs, who just then 
were in the midst of a spurt, clawed and bit their 
way to victory in two games of the four, and the 
Giants were lucky to break even. As it was, the 
two games they won were annexed by the terrific 
batting of Joe, who was hitting like a demon. In 
the four games he made three home runs, and two 
of them were lined out when there were men on 
bases. All pitchers looked alike to him, and he 
played no favorites. The rest he had had from 
pitching had made him all the more effective as a 
batsman. 

His fame as a hitter had spread through all the 
cities of the League, and the Chicago grounds 
were filled to their capacity during the Giants’ 
visit. Most of the spectators were as eager to 
see him hit one of his mammoth homers as they 
were to see the home team win. Cheers greeted 
203 


204 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


him every time he came to the bat. He was the 
greatest drawing card that the Giants had or ever 
had had. 

Opinion was divided as to whether he or Kid 
Rose of the Yankees was the greatest hitter. 
Each had his partisans. Rose had been longer in 
the limelight, and those who had made up their 
minds that he was the greatest hitter that ever 
lived were reluctant to see their idol replaced by 
a newcomer. Many confidently predicted that Joe 
would not last, that his work was only a flash in 
the pan. Others declared that he did not have to 
bat against as good pitching in the National 
League as was shown in the American, and that 
therefore Rose’s work was superior. But as Joe 
kept on, day in and day out, lacing out tremendous 
hits that landed in the bleachers and at times 
sailed over the fence, the doubters grew silent, or 
joined in the wild applause as Joe jogged around 
the bases and crossed the plate standing up. 

The keenest interest was manifested in the race 
that the Yankees were making to land the flag 
in the American League. If they should come out 
on top, the World Series would be held between 
New York teams, and Rose and Joe could be seen 
in action against each other. That would help to 
settle the question as to which had a right to wear 
the batting crown of the world. It would be a 
battle of giants, and it was certain that, if such a 


THE TIRELESS FOE 


205 

contest took place, there would be delegations to 
see it from all parts of the country. 

McRae was no longer content to use Joe simply 
as a pinch hitter. He wanted to take full advan¬ 
tage of his marvelous hitting, and so he put him 
in the regular line-up and played him every day. 
Wheeler was relegated to the bench and Joe took 
his place in the field. The manager also changed 
his batting order, putting Joe fourth in the clean¬ 
up position. And again and again his judgment 
was vindicated by the way Joe cleaned up with 
homers, sending his comrades in ahead of him. 

The day the third Chicago game was played 
was a very hot one, and Joe and Jim were tired 
and warm. Jim had pitched that day and won, 
after a gruelling contest, and Joe had varied his 
ordinary routine by knocking out two home runs 
instead of one. 

Joe was seated in his hotel room, writing a let¬ 
ter to Mabel. Jim had stepped down to the office 
to get some stationery, for he had the pleasant task 
on hand of writing to Clara. 

A knock came at the door, and in answer to his 
call to enter, a bellboy stepped into the room, bear¬ 
ing a pitcher and glasses. 

“Here’s the lemonade you ordered, boss,” he 
said, as he put his burden on a convenient stand. 

“Lemonade?” repeated Joe in some surprise. 
“I didn’t order any.” 


206 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“Clerk sent me up with it, sir,” said the bellboy 
respectfully. “Said it was for Mr. Matson, room 
four-seventeen. This is four-seventeen, isn’t it?” 
he asked as he glanced at the number on the door, 
which he had left open. 

“This is four-seventeen, all right, and I’m Mr. 
Matson,” Joe answered. “But I didn’t order 
anything. I’ll tell you how it is though,” he added, 
as a thought struck him. “My friend who is 
sharing the room with me has just gone down to 
the lobby, and he’s probably told the clerk to send 
it up. That’s all right. Leave it there.” 

“Shall I pour you out a glass, sir?” asked the 
boy, suiting the action to the word. 

“If you like,” responded Joe carelessly, taking 
a quarter out of his pocket as a tip. 

The boy thanked him and withdrew, closing the 
door behind him. Joe finished the paragraph he 
was writing, and then picked up the glass. He 
took a sip of it and put it down. 

“Pretty bitter,” he said to himself. “Not 
enough sugar. Still it’s cooling, and I sure am 
warm.” 

Again he lifted the glass to his lips, but just 
then Jim burst into the room. 

“Whom do you think I saw just now?” he 
demanded. 

“Give it up,” replied Joe. “But whoever it was, 
you seem to be all excited about it. Who was it?” 


THE TIRELESS FOE 


207 


“Fleming!” answered Jim, as he plumped down 
into a chair. 

“Fleming!” repeated Joe with quickened inter¬ 
est. “What’s that fellow doing here ? I thought 
he hung out in New York.” 

“That’s what I want to know,” replied Jim. 
“Wherever that fellow is, there’s apt to be dirty 
work brewing. And the frightened look that 
came into his eyes when he saw me, and the way 
he hurried past me, made me uneasy. He acted as 
if he’d been up to something. I don’t like the idea 
of a pal of Braxton being in the same hotel with 
us.” 

“I don’t care much for it myself,” answered 
Joe. “Still, a hotel is open to anybody, and this 
is one of the most popular ones in the city. It 
isn’t especially surprising that you should happen 
to run across him.” 

“Not surprising perhaps, but unpleasant just 
the same,” responded Jim. “It leaves a bad taste 
in my mouth.” 

“Well,” laughed Joe, “take the bad taste out 
with a glass of this lemonade you sent up. It 
isn’t very good—it has a bad taste of its own:— 
but it will cool you off.” 

He raised his glass to his mouth as he spoke. 
But in an instant Jim was on his feet and knocked 
the glass from his hand. It fell on the floor and 
splintered in many pieces. 


208 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Joe looked at him in open-e)jed amazement, too 
astonished to speak. 

“Don’t touch the stuff!” cried Jim. “What do 
you mean by saying I sent it up ?” 

“Didn’t you?” asked Joe. “The bellboy said 
he had been told to bring it to me, and as I hadn’t 
ordered it, I jumped to the conclusion that you 
had.” 

“Not I!” replied Jim. “But I can guess who 
did!” 

“Who?” 

“Fleming.” 

The two friends looked fixedly at each other. 

“Do you mean,” asked Joe, after a moment in 
which surprise and indignation struggled for the 
mastery, “that that lemonade was doped?” 

“Doped or poisoned, I’ll bet my life,” affirmed 
Jim. “Let’s get to the bottom of this thing. 
Quick, old man! Perhaps Fleming is still some¬ 
where in the hotel.” 

“Not a chance,” replied Joe, jumping to his 
feet. “If he’s mixed up in this, he’s getting away 
as fast as his legs or a car can carry him. But 
we’ll go down and see what we can learn from the 
clerk.” 

They went to the head clerk, whom they knew 
very well. He was an ardent fan, and his face 
lighted up as he saw the friends approaching. 

“Saw you play to-day, gentlemen,” he said. 


THE TIRELESS FOE 


209 


“Those two home runs of yours were whales, Mr. 
Matson. And your pitching, Mr. Barclay, was 
all to the mustard.” 

“Sorry to beat your Chicago boys, but we 
needed that game in our business,” laughed Joe. 
“But what I want to see you about just now is a 
personal matter. Did you get an order from me 
or from my room to send up any lemonade ?” 

The clerk looked surprised. 

“No,” he replied. “I didn’t get any such 
request. Wait a moment until I see the telephone 
operator.” 

He consulted the girl at the telephone, and was 
back in a moment. “No message of any kind 
came from your room to-night,” he announced. 

“But one of your bellboys brought it up,” per¬ 
sisted Joe. 

“Which one of them was it?” asked the clerk, 
pointing to a group of them lounging about. 

“None of them,” responded Joe, as he ran his 
eye over them. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


CHAMPIONS OF THE LEAGUE 

‘‘There are three more of the bellboys doing 
various errands about the hotel,” replied the clerk. 
‘‘If you gentlemen will wait around they’ll be back 
in a few minutes.” 

“All right, we’ll wait,” said Joe. 

Before long, all the bellboys were back, and Joe 
had had a good look at the entire staff. Not one 
resembled the boy who had come to his room. 

“I can’t understand it,” mused the clerk, to 
whom the boys had been careful not to impart 
their suspicions. “It must have been sent in by 
somebody from the outside. It’s certain that it 
wasn’t sent up from here.” 

“Oh, well,” said Joe carelessly, “it doesn’t 
matter. I just wanted to find out, so that I could 
thank the one who did it. Sorry to have troubled 
you.” 

They strolled off indifferently and returned to 
their room. 

“ ‘Thank’ is good,” said Jim, as soon as they 
were out of earshot. 


210 


CHAMPIONS OF THE LEAGUE 211 


“I’ll thank him all right,” replied Joe grimly. 
“In fact I’ll thank him so warmly that it will 
stagger him.” 

“May I be there to see!” replied Jim gruffly. 
“I can figure out the whole thing now. Fleming 
had had that lemonade doped and it was meant to 
put you out of business. It was easy to find out 
what hotel you were stopping at, as that’s been in 
all the papers. Then it was a simple thing to 
glance over the register and get the number of 
your room. He’s either got a bellboy from some 
other hotel or dressed up somebody in a bellboy’s 
uniform. He’s probably bribed him well, and it’s 
been all the easier because he didn’t have to let on 
to the boy that there was anything crooked about 
it. Told him perhaps that he was just playing a 
little joke on a friend or something like that. 
There’s the whole story.” 

“I guess that’s about right,” agreed Joe. “Gee, 
Jim, it’s mighty lucky that you knocked that glass 
out of my hand. I had noticed that it tasted 
rather bitter, but put that down to too little 
sugar.” 

“Let’s send some of the stuff to a chemist and 
have it analyzed,” suggested Jim. 

“No,” objected Joe, “that wouldn’t do any 
good. The thing would be apt to get into the 
papers, and that’s the very thing we mustn’t let 
happen for the sake of the folks at home. We 


212 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

know enough about the stuff to be sure that it was 
doctored in some way. Everything about the inci¬ 
dent tells of crookedness. Fleming was probably 
the master hand, although he may have simply been 
the tool of Braxton. Those fellows are running 
up a heavy account, and some day I hope we’ll get 
the goods on them. We’ll just dump the stuff out 
so that nobody else will be injured. Then we’ll 
lay low but keep our eyes open. It’s all that we 
can do.” 

“Gee, that was one dandy homer, Joe,” said 
the catcher some time later. 

“Best ever,” added the first baseman. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” answered the young ball 
player modestly. “I think I have done better. 
But it was great to carry it along to eleven inn¬ 
ings,” he added, with a smile. 

“That tenth had me almost going,” said the 
shortstop. “We came close to spilling the beans,” 
and he shook his head seriously. 

“Well, ‘all’s well that ends well,’ as Socrates 
said to General Grant,” and Joe grinned. 

From Chicago the Giants jumped to St. Louis, 
where, despite the stiff est kind of resistance, they 
took three games out of four. They were not 
quite as successful in Cincinnati, where the best 
they could get was an even break. The Reds saw 
a chance to come in third, in which case they would 
have a share in the World Series money, and they 


CHAMPIONS OF THE LEAGUE 213 

were showing the best ball that they had played all 
season. The Giants had all they could do to nose 
them out in the last game, which went to eleven 
innings and was only won by a home run by Joe 
in the wind-up. 

Seven games out of twelve for a team on the 
road was not bad, but it would have been worse if 
the Pirates, in the meantime, had not also had a 
rocky road to travel. The Brooklyns had helped 
their friends across the bridge by taking the Pitts- 
burghs into camp to the tune of three games out 
of four and the Bostons had broken even. With 
the Phillies, however, the Pirates had made a 
clean sweep of the four games. So when the 
Giants faced their most formidable foes, they 
still had the lead of four games with which they 
had begun their Western trip. 

This, of course, gave the Giants the edge on 
their rivals. The Pittsburghs would have to win 
the whole four games to draw up on even terms 
with the leaders. In that case a deciding game 
would be necessary to break the tie. On the other 
hand all the Giants had to do was to win one game 
of the four and they would have the championship 
cinched. And that they would do at least that 
seemed almost a certainty. 

But nothing is certain in baseball, as soon be¬ 
came evident. Perhaps it was overconfidence or 
a sense of already being on easy street that caused 


214 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


the Giants to lose the first game. That, however, 
could not be said of the second, when the Giants 
“played their heads off,” Jim said, and yet could 
not win against the classy pitching and stonewall 
defense put up by the Smoky City team. Things 
were beginning to look serious for the Giants, and 
some of their confidence was vanishing. 

Still more serious did they become when the 
third game went into the Pirates’ basket. Jim 
pitched in that game and twirled wonderful ball, 
but his support was ragged, and several Pirate 
blows that ought to have been outs were registered 
ultimately as runs. They were unearned runs, but 
they counted in the final score as much as though 
they had been due to the team’s hitting. The 
Giants were long-faced and gloomy. 

McRae was- clearly worried. If the next game 
were lost, the leaders would be tied, and the 
Pirates would still have a chance to win. It would 
be a bitter pill to swallow if the Giants lost the 
flag just when it had seemed that all was over 
except the shouting. 

Moreover, the manager was in a quandary. 
All his first string pitchers had been beaten. His 
best one in active service at the present time, Jim, 
had pitched that day and it would not do to ask 
him to go into the box again to-morrow. In his 
desperation he turned to Joe. 

“Joe,” he said, “we’re up against it unless you 


CHAMPIONS OF THE LEAGUE 215 

can help us out. How is your hand feeling? 
Would you dare to take a chance with it?” 

“I think it’s all right now, or nearly so,” 
replied Joe. “I’ve been trying it out in practice 
right along, and it seems to me it’s about as good 
as ever. I was putting them over to Mylert yes¬ 
terday, and he told me he couldn’t see any differ¬ 
ence between them and those I threw before I was 
hurt. The only thing I’m a little skittish about is 
my fadeaway. That gives me a little twinge when 
I try it. But I guess I can leave that out and still 
pull through.” 

“That’s good!” ejaculated McRae, with great 
relief. “Go in then, old boy, and show these 
pesky Pirates where they get off. We simply must 
win this game.” 

There was a startled murmur among the specta¬ 
tors who thronged Forbes Field that afternoon 
when they saw Joe go into the box. They had been 
gloating over the supposition that McRae would 
have to use again one of the pitchers whom the 
Pirates had already beaten in that series, and the 
way their pets were going, they looked for a sure 
victory. Now they saw the man who had always 
baffled the Pittsburghs again take up the pitcher’s 
burden, and their faces took on a look of appre¬ 
hension. 

The Pirate players too shared in that apprehen¬ 
sion. They had a profound respect for Joe’s 


216 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

ability, and had always had a sinking of the heart 
when they saw him draw on his glove. Still, they 
comforted themselves with the hope that his long 
layoff had hurt his effectiveness, and they braced 
to give him the battle of his life. 

Joe himself felt a thrill of exultation when he 
stepped on the mound. That was his throne. 
There he had won the laurels that crowned him as 
the greatest pitcher of his League. Now he wa9 
back again, back to buoy up the spirit of his team, 
back to justify the confidence of his manager, 
back to uphold his fame, back to bring the cham¬ 
pionship of the National League once more to 
New York. 

He still carried in' his pocket Mabel’s glove, 
that he had come to regard as his mascot. He 
touched it now. Then he wound up for the first 
pitch and split the plate for a strike. 

It was an auspicious beginning of one of the 
greatest games he had ever pitched in his whole 
career. The Pirates simply did not have a chance. 
All through the game they were swinging wildly 
at a ball that seemed to be bewitched, a ball that 
dodged their bats and appeared to be laughing at 
them. Angered and bewildered, they tried every 
device to avoid impending defeat. They bunted, 
they put in pinch hitters, they called the umpire’s 
attention to Joe’s delivery in the hope of rattling 
him, they tried to get hit with the ball. 


CHAMPIONS OF THE LEAGUE 217 

Through it all, Joe kept on smiling and mowing 
them down. Only three men got to first. Not 
one got to second. Thirteen men went out on 
strikes. And then, to cap the climax, Joe sent a 
screaming homer into the right field bleachers, 
sending in two men ahead of him. 

The final score was 8 to o. The Giants had 
won the championship of the National League. 
Now they were to battle for the championship of 
the world! 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE WORLD SERIES 

It was a happy team of Giants that left Pitts* 
burgh that night on the sleeper for New York. 
The season’s strain was over. The coveted flag 
was theirs. They had fought their way through 
many discouragements, had stood the gaff, and 
now they were at the top of their League, with 
none to contest their title as champions. 

“Some victory, eh, Joe?” remarked Jim to his 
chum. 

“Right, Jim,” was the ready reply. 

To be sure a great battle loomed up ahead of 
them, but they welcomed that with eagerness. It 
meant thousands of dollars to every member of the 
team, win or lose. But they had no thought of 
losing. The return of their king pitcher to the 
box that afternoon, and the proof that he was in 
magnificent form, had filled them chock full of 
confidence. 

And they were doubly glad that the Yankees 
were to be their opponents. That had been settled 
218 


THE WORLD SERIES 


219 


three days before, when the American League 
season had closed with the Yankees just nosing out 
the Clevelands at the finish. It was settled that 
every game of the World Series would be played 
in New York. 

This meant that there would be no long, tire¬ 
some, overnight journeys between cities. But it 
meant more than that. It meant that the question 
would now be settled once for all as to which of 
the New York teams was the better. 

This had been a mooted question for a good 
many years past. Each team had its warm friends 
and admirers, who were ready to back it through 
thick and thin. The Giants, of course, had been 
established longer, and had gained a strong place 
in the affections of the metropolis. Their games, 
as a usual thing, drew many more spectators- than 
those played by their rivals. But of late the acqui¬ 
sition of Kid Rose by the Yankees had drawn the 
greater attention to that team, and the Giants had 
been cast in the shade. They were not used to 
this and did not relish it. They knew the Yankees 
were a strong team, but at the same time they be¬ 
lieved that they could take their measure if it ever 
came to a showdown. Now that showdown was 
at hand, and the Giants were glad of it. 

The public, too, were eager to have the question 
of supremacy settled. The metropolis was fairly 
seething with excitement over the series, and the 


220 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

hotels already were filling up with visitors from as 
far off as the Pacific Coast. Not only columns but 
whole pages of the newspapers were filled with 
comments and prophecies respecting the chances 
of the respective teams. 

More than anything else in the public mind was 
the coming duel between Kid Rose and Joe Mat- 
son as home run hitters. Which would make the 
longer hits? Which would make the more home 
runs ? These were the questions that were on the 
lips of the fans wherever two or more of them 
met. And the sporting pages of the daily news¬ 
papers were full of it. 

The series this year was to consist of nine 
games if so many should be necessary. The team 
that first won five games would be the champions 
of the world. The members of the teams were to 
share in the money taken in at the first five games 
played, so that there would be no inducement to 
spin out the series. After certain percentages had 
been deducted sixty per cent was to go to the 
winners and forty per cent to the losers. The out¬ 
look was that each member of the winning team 
would get about five thousand dollars and each 
member of the losing team between three and four 
thousand, a difference great enough to make each 
player do his best, apart from his loyalty to his 
team. 

Reggie had come up from Goldsboro, bringing 


THE WORLD SERIES 


221 


Mabel with him, a charge of which Joe promptly 
relieved him. She seemed to Joe more distract- 
ingly beautiful than ever, and his heart thumped 
as he realized that in less than a month she would 
be his own. That had been arranged in their cor¬ 
respondence. The wedding would take place in 
Mabel’s home in Goldsboro, and after their honey¬ 
moon they were to go to Riverside, to witness the 
marriage of Jim and Clara. The latter had hoped 
to come on to see the World Series, but Mrs. Mat- 
son was not well enough to come along, and Clara 
did not want to leave her. So poor Jim had to 
exercise patience and not be too envious of the 
almost delirious happiness of Joe and Mabel at 
being together. 

A more exciting World Series than that which 
now began between the Giants and Yankees had 
never been known in the history of the game. 
Both teams were out for blood. Every man was 
on his toes, and the excited spectators were roused 
almost to madness by the almost miraculous stops 
and throws pulled off by the fielders. From the 
start it was evident that the nines were very evenly 
balanced, and that whichever finally won would 
in all probability do so by the narrowest kind of 
margin. 

Victory seesawed between the teams. Joe 
pitched the first game, and the Giants won by 3 to 
1. The Yankees took the second by 5 to 2. Jim 


222 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

held them down in the third to two runs, while the 
Giants accumulated six. The Yankees made it 
“fifty-fifty” by galloping away with the fourth 
game in a free hitting contest, of which Markwith 
was the victim, the final score being 9 to 5. The 
Giants again assumed the lead by copping the fifth 
by 4 to o, Joe decorating his opponents with a 
necklace of goose eggs. They repeated on the fol¬ 
lowing day, and with only one more game needed 
to make the five, it looked as though they would 
be certain winners. But the Yankees were not yet 
through, and they came back strong on the two 
succeeding days and evened up the score. Each 
had won four games. The ninth and final game 
would determine which team was to be the cham¬ 
pions of the world. 

In these contests, Joe had batted like a fiend. 
McRae had played him in every game, putting 
him in the outfield on the days that he was not 
scheduled to pitch. In the eight games, Joe had 
made six circuit clouts, in addition to four three- 
baggers, three two-base hits, and some singles. 
He was simply killing the ball. 

Kid Rose also had done sterling work, and had 
rapped out five homers, besides a number of hits 
for a lesser number of bags. But Baseball Joe so 
far had outclassed him, both in the number and the 
length of his hits. There was no stopping him. 
High or low, incurve or outcurve, they were all 


THE WORLD SERIES 


223 


the same to him. That eagle eye of his located 
the course of the ball unerringly, and when the ash 
connected with the ball that ball was slated for a 
ride. 

There was no mistake about it. Joe had ar¬ 
rived. The batting crown was his. He had long 
since been recognized as the king of pitchers. 
Now he was hailed by acclamation as the greatest 
hitter in the game! 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE GAME OF HIS LIFE 

For the ninth and deciding game, McRae had 
selected Joe to pitch. 

“I don’t need to tell you, Joe, how much 
depends on this game,” McRae said soberly, as the 
two came out of the clubhouse and walked across 
the field towards the grandstand, which was 
crowded to suffocation. “You know it as well as 
I do. I’m just counting on you, my boy. You’ve 
never failed me yet in a pinch. You won’t fail me 
now.” 

“Trust me, Mac,” replied Joe. “I’ll do my 
best to win out.” 

Hudson, the manager of the Yankees, was also 
pinning his faith on the leader of his pitching staff, 
Phil Hays. He was a master of the underhand 
delivery, and had already captured for the 
Yankees the two games of the series in which he 
had pitched. In both games he had sorely puzzled 
the Giants, for there was no pitcher in the Na¬ 
tional League who used that delivery, and they 

224 


THE GAME OF HIS LIFE 


225 


had found it almost impossible to gauge it. He 
also had a crossfire, that he used at times with tell¬ 
ing effect. He had not yet matched his pitching 
strength against Joe’s, and the crowd was all agog 
with curiosity to see them battle against each 
other. 

Jim had been a little later than Joe in slipping 
into his uniform, and was still in the clubhouse, 
after his friend had gone out on the field, when 
Reggie came rushing in, panting and out of breath. 

“Where’s Joe?” he asked, looking wildly 
around. 

“He’s just gone out to practice,” answered Jim. 
“Why, what’s the matter, Reggie?” 

“I’ve got to get Joe,” Reggie panted, making a 
dash for the door. 

But Jim caught his arm. 

“Look here, Reggie,” he said, holding to him 
tightly. “Joe mustn’t be upset. I can see that 
something’s happened. Tell me what it is, and 
I’ll see about letting Joe know.” 

“It’s M-Mabel!” answered Reggie, stammer¬ 
ing in his excitement. “She’s disappeared.” 

“Disappeared!” echoed Jim, in bewilderment. 
“What do you mean?” 

“Just that,” answered Reggie. “She went out 
this morning to call on a friend, but said she’d get 
back to go with me to the game. I got anxious 
when she didn’t come, and called up her friend. 


226 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

who said she hadn’t seen her. Just then a mes¬ 
senger boy brought me this,” and he handed over 
a typewritten, unsigned note, which read: 

“Miss Varley is in safe hands. If Matson loses 
his game to-day she will be returned this evening. 
If he doesn’t, it will cost $25,000 to get her back. 
Personal in papers to-morrow, signed T. Z., will 
give exact directions for carrying on further 
negotiations.” 

“Now you see why I’ve got to see Joe right 
away,” said Reggie in frenzied impatience, snatch¬ 
ing the note from Jim’s hands. 

“You mustn’t!” ejaculated Jim, barring the way. 
“Don’t you see that that’s just what the rascals 
want you to do? You’d just be playing their game. 
They want to get Joe so frightened and upset that 
he can’t pitch. It’s the scheme of some gamblers 
who have bet on the Yanks to win. They want to 
make sure that they will win, and so they want to 
bribe or frighten Joe into losing. But probably if he 
did, they’d demand the ransom money just the 
same. We’ll have to keep it from Joe until the 
game is over. Nothing will be lost by that. I’ll 
give McRae a tip and he’ll let me off. Then you 
and I will get busy and do all that we can for the 
next two hours. If we turn nothing up, we’ll be 
back here when the game ends and tell Joe all 


THE GAME OF HIS LIFE 


227 

about it. Wait here a minute till I see McRae, 
and then we’ll get on the job.” 

In five minutes he was back with the required 
permission, and as soon as he had got into his 
street clothes he hailed a taxicab, and he and 
Reggie jumped in and were off. 

When the bell rang for the game to begin, the 
Giants took the field, and Milton, the big center- 
fielder of the Yankees, came to the plate. Joe 
wound a high fast one about his neck, at which he 
refused to bite. The next one split the rubber, and 
Milton swung savagely at it and missed. The 
next was a called strike. On the following ball, 
he rolled an easy grounder to Burkett at first, who 
made the put out unassisted. The next man, 
'Pender, Joe put out on strikes in jig time. Then 
the mighty Kid Rose strode to the bat. 

He grinned at Joe and Joe grinned back. They 
were both good fellows, and each thoroughly 
respected the other. There was no bitterness in 
their rivalry. 

“Now little ball, come to papa!” sang out Rose. 

“Here he comes!” laughed Joe. “Take a look 
at baby.” 

The ball whizzed over the plate, and Rose 
missed it by an inch. The next he fouled off, as 
he did the following one. Then Joe tried a fade¬ 
away, and Rose fell for it, swinging himself half¬ 
way round with the force of his blow. 


223 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

“You’re out!” cried the umpire, and the Giant 
supporters in the stands broke out in cheers. It 
was not often that Rose struck out, and the feat 
was appreciated. 

In the Giants’ half, Hays set them down in one, 
two, three order. Curry flied to Russell in right, 
Iredell went out by the strike route, while 
Burkett’s grounder to Pender at short was whipped 
smartly down to first. 

The Yankees were easy victims in the second. 
Russell fanned, Walsh lifted a twisting foul, on 
which Mylert made a superb catch close to the 
Giants’ dugout and Mullen hit a grounder between 
first and the box, which Joe captured and fielded to 
Burkett in plenty of time. 

Joe was first up in the Giants’ half, and had to 
doff his cap in response to the cheers which greeted 
him as he came to the plate. 

Hays sized him up carefully and did not like his 
looks. The first ball he threw him was so wide 
that Banks, the catcher, had to reach far out to 
nab it with one hand. 

That might have been lack of control on Hays’ 
part, but when a second followed, that came no¬ 
where in the range of Joe’s bat, the crowd jumped 
to the conclusion that he was deliberately trying to 
pass him, and a storm of protests rained down on 
the diamond. 

“You’re a game sport—not!” 


THE GAME OF HIS LIFE 


229 


“Let Baseball Joe hit the ball !’* 

“Yellow streak!” 

“Matson took a chance with Rose. Why don’t 
you take a chance with Matson?” 

“Where’s your sand?” 

Whether Hays was stung by these jibes or not, 
the next ball curved over the plate and just above 
the knee. There was a ringing crack, and the ball 
sailed aloft in the direction of the bleachers with 
home run written all over it. There was no need 
of hurrying, and Joe simply trotted around the 
bases, while pandemonium reigned in the stands 
and bleachers. 


CHAPTER XXX 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 

Wheeler went out on a fly to Milton, Willis 
fanned, and Larry closed the inning with a pop up 
to second. But the Giants had scored first blood, 
and in such a close game as this promised to be, 
that run stood out like a lighthouse. 

In the third, McCarthy fell victim to Joe’s 
curves and went out on strikes. Banks was lucky 
and got to first on a grasser to Iredell that took 
a wicked bound just as the shortstop was all set 
to receive it and jumped into left. He was nipped 
a minute later, when Joe saw out of the corner of 
his eye that he was taking too long a lead off first 
and made a lightning throw to Burkett. Hays, 
after fouling off two, struck out on a mean drop, 
and the inning ended without damage. 

Hays put one over for Denton that the latter 
pickeled for a dandy grasser between third and 
short. Rose at left was slow in retrieving the 
ball, and Denton by fleet running and a hook slide 
reached the middle station. Here, however, he 
230 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


231 


was caught napping. Then Hays braced and set 
the next two players down on strikes. It was a 
deft exhibition of “getting out of a hole,” and 
deserved the generous applause that it received. 

In the Yankees’ half of the fourth, Milton sent 
one to Willis at third that the latter stopped 
neatly but threw to first too wide, the ball almost 
missing Burkett’s fingers as he reached for it. 
Pender knocked a grounder to Larry, but the 
latter hesitated a moment as to whether to make 
the play at first or second, and when he finally 
chose second, Milton had reached that bag, and 
both men were safe. Then Rose came to the bat, 
with the Yankee partisans shouting wildly for a 
homer. 

Joe fooled him twice, but Rose caught the third 
one and poled a hit to right. Wheeler and Den¬ 
ton both raced for it, and the latter by a herculean 
effort just managed to get under it. In the mean¬ 
time, Milton had started forward, and Pender 
too was on his way. Quick as a flash, Denton 
straightened up and sent the ball on a line to first. 
Pender had turned and was running back, but was 
an easy out. Burkett shot the ball to Larry, put¬ 
ting out Milton, who was scrambling back to sec¬ 
ond. It was a superb triple play and the crowd 
went crazy. 

Iredell started the Giants’ fourth with a liner 
to McCarthy, that settled comfortably in the third 


232 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

baseman’s glove. Burkett lammed a single into 
right. Joe walloped a shrieking three-bagger be¬ 
tween right and center, that brought Burkett gal¬ 
loping to the plate for the second run of the game. 
Wheeler was ordered to sacrifice, but his at¬ 
tempted bunt resulted in a little fly to Hays, and 
Joe was held on third. Hays turned on steam 
and struck Willis out. 

The fifth inning passed without scoring by 
either side. Both Joe and Hays were pitching 
magnificent ball, and the crowds cheered each in 
turn lustily. 

The first real hit that Joe yielded came in the 
sixth, when after McCarthy had struck out, Banks 
lined a beauty into right between first and second. 
It did no harm, however, for Joe tightened up 
immediately and made Hays and Milton hit at 
empty air. 

The Giants in their half went the Yankees one 
better in the matter of hits, and yet could not 
score. Curry sent a twister over second that Mul¬ 
len could not get under. Iredell followed with a 
slow roller down the third base line, that Mc¬ 
Carthy could not reach in time to field. A mo¬ 
ment later, however, Curry was caught napping at 
second, and Burkett hit into a snappy double play, 
retiring the side. 

In the seventh, the Yankees broke the ice. 
Pender got a life, when his high fly to third was 
muffed by Willis. Kid Rose came to the bat. 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


233 


“Put it over, Joe, and see me lose it,” he called. 
“I was robbed last time.” 

“That’s nothing, Kid,” chaffed Joe. “You’ll be 
killed this time.” 

The first ball, which completely baffled the most 
dangerous slugger of the American League, 
seemed to bear out this prediction. On the second, 
however, Rose sent a neat hit to right that was 
good for two bases and brought Pender over the 
plate, amid the thunderous roars of the Yankee 
supporters. Russell tapped a little one in front 
of the plate, that Joe got in time to put him out 
at first, but not to head Rose off at third. Walsh 
went out on strikes. Mullen rolled one to Burkett, 
and Joe ran over to cover the bag, but Burkett’s 
throw hit the dirt and Rose came over the plate, 
tying the score. McCarthy fanned, and the inning 
was over. One hit, sandwiched in with errors, 
had knocked the Giants’ lead into a cocked hat and 
tied up the game. 

Not for long, however. Joe was the first man 
up, and came to the plate with blood in his eye. 
The first two offerings he let go by. The third 
was to his liking. There was an explosion like the 
crack of a gun and the ball started on its journey. 

That journey was destined to be talked about 
for years to come. It was the longest hit that ever 
had been made on the Polo Grounds. On it went 


234 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

over right field, over the bleachers and over the 
fence, clearing it at a height of fifty feet. 

In the wild roar that went up as Joe loped 
around the bases, even the Yankee supporters 
joined. It was an occasion that rose above par¬ 
tisanship, an outstanding event in the history of 
sport. The spectators cheered until they were 
hoarse, and it was a minute or two before play 
could be resumed. 

The rest of the inning was short and sweet. 
Wheeler, Willis and Larry went out in order, the 
first two on strikes and the latter on a grounder 
fielded by Mullen. 

The eighth was on the same snappy order. Joe 
was determined to maintain his advantage, and 
was invincible. Banks grounded to the box, and 
Joe tossed him out. Hays fanned for the second 
time and Milton followed suit. 

Hays, too, was. going strong, and the Giant 
batsmen went down before him like a row of ten¬ 
pins. Denton made three futile attempts and 
threw down his bat in disgust. Mylert cut three 
successive swaths in the atmosphere and went 
back to the bench, while Curry fouled out to 
Banks. 

In the ninth, the Yankees again sewed it up. 
Pender got to first, when Larry was slow in field¬ 
ing his grounder. The mighty Rose came up 
amid frantic cheering. But Joe summoned all his 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


235 


cunning, and for the second time that day struck 
him out, while the crowd cheered his sportsman¬ 
ship in not passing him to first. Russell popped 
up an infield fly that Willis and Iredell ran for but 
collided, the ball dropping between them. In the 
scramble that ensued, Pender reached third and 
Russell made second. Iredell was still a little 
shaken by the collision, and fumbled the easy 
grounder of Walsh that ought to have resulted in 
an out at the plate, Walsh reaching first in safety. 
In consequence Pender scored, and again the game 
was tied at 3 to 3. A single now would have 
brought in another run, but Joe by a quick throw 
caught Walsh asleep at first and struck out Mullen, 
thus ending the inning. 

With the frenzied adjurations of McRae and 
Robbie in their ears, the Giants came to the bat 
for the last half of the ninth. Iredell made a 
mighty effort, but came back to the bench after 
three fruitless swings at Hays’ benders. Burkett 
sent up a towering skyscraper that was gathered 
in after a long run by Milton in center. 

On Joe now rested the Giants’ hopes. Twice 
that day he had poled out homers, and once he 
had ripped out a three-bagger. Could he repeat? 

Hays was determined that he shouldn’t have a 
chance. Amid the jeers and taunts of the crowd, 
he deliberately sent three balls wide of the plate. 
In attempting to do the same with the fourth* 


236 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

however, he sent it a trifle too close. Joe caught 
it on the end of his bat. 

How that ball traveled! Almost on a line it 
whistled through the air in the direction of the 
right field bleachers. On and on went that terrific, 
screaching liner straight into the crowd in the 
bleachers who scrambled frantically to get out of 
its path. 

Round the bases went Joe, amid shouts and 
yells that were deafening. Down on the home 
plate he came with both feet. The game was won, 
the series was over and the Giants were the cham¬ 
pions of the world! 

Like a deer Joe made for the clubhouse, to 
escape the crowds that came swarming over the 
field. He reached it just as a man was being car¬ 
ried inside. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Any one 
'hurt?” 

“Only a glancing blow,” remarked the club doc¬ 
tor, who had been looking the man over. “He’s 
dazed, but he’ll come to his senses soon.” 

Joe bent over to look at him and started back 
in surprise. 

“Why, I know that man!” he exclaimed. “His 
name’s Fleming!” 

“It’9 Fleming all right,” said Jim’s voice beside 
him. “And he’s got just what was coming to 
him.” 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


237 


Joe looked up and saw Jim and Reggie. They 
were grave and worried, and Joe’s sixth sense 
told him that something was wrong. 

“What’s happened?” he asked in alarm. “And 
where is Mabel? What kept her from the game? 
Don’t stand there dumb! Tell me, quick!” 

“Now, Joe-” began Jim soothingly, but wa9 

interrupted by the injured man who opened his 
eyes, looked wildly around and struggled to a sit¬ 
ting posture. His eyes dilated with fright when 
he saw Joe and Jim. 

“I didn’t do it!” he half screamed. “I didn’t 
kidnap her! It was Braxton. He-” 

Jim interposed. 

“Clear a space here,” he commanded. “This 
is a private matter for Joe and me. Now, Flem¬ 
ing,” he went on in short, menacing words that 
cut like a knife, “tell me this instant where Miss 
Varley is. You know. Tell me. Quick! Don’t 
lie, or I’ll tear your tongue out by the roots.” 

Before the blazing fury in his eyes Fleming 
quailed. 

“She’s at Inwood,” he muttered. “She’s safe 
enough. She’s-” 

“Reggie,” commanded Jim, “jump into the car 
and take the wheel. Joe, help me to get this man 
into the car. Don’t talk. I’ll explain as we go 
along. Doyle,” he continued, turning to a police 
lieutenant who was a warm admirer of the boys 





238 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 


and who happened to be standing near, “come 
along with us if you don’t mind. It may be a case 
for you.” 

“Sure thing,” replied Doyle. “I’m with you.” 

They half dragged, half carried, Fleming to the 
car, and Reggie put on speed. The lieutenant sat 
in front with him, and his uniform prevented any 
question on the part of the traffic policemen. Flem¬ 
ing, pale and apprehensive, was thrust into a 
corner of the tonneau, vjiile Jim explained the 
situation to Joe, who was boiling with rage. 

The headlong speed at which Reggie drove 
soon brought them to the vicinity of Inwood, and 
following the faltering directions of Fleming, they 
drew up before a little house that was a block away 
from any of its neighbors. 

They tiptoed up the steps, Joe having his hand 
so tightly on Fleming’s collar that his knuckles 
ground into his neck. 

“You know what you’ve got to do, Fleming,” 
he whispered. “If you don’t do it-” 

His grip tightened and his fist clenched. 

Trembling, Fleming opened the front door 
with his latchkey, and the party went softly 
through the hall. They stopped in front of a door 
from behind which a man was heard talking. 

“I’m sorry to have to incommode you, Miss 
Varley,” he was saying in suave polished tones 
that the boys recognized at once as Braxton’s. 



CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


239 


“But unfortunately it is necessary to the success 
of my plans. You can’t complain that we haven’t 
treated you with perfect respect outside of the 
little violence we had to use to get you into the 
car.” 

There was no reply, but the party could hear 
the sound of sobbing. 

“Knock,” whispered Joe, emphasizing the com¬ 
mand by a twist of Fleming’s collar. 

Fleming knocked. 

“Who’s there?” came from within. 

“It’s Fleming,” was the weak answer. “Open 
up.” 

The door opened and the party went in with a 
rush. 

There was a cry of joy from Mabel and a 
startled exclamation from Braxton. He looked 
toward the door, but the burly policeman had 
closed it and stood with his back against it. The 
next instant Joe had smashed Braxton straight be¬ 
tween the eyes and the rascal measured his length 
on the floor. An instant more, and Mabel was in 
Joe’s arms, sobbing her heart out against his 
breast. 

For a few moments the reunited ones were dead 
to the world around them. When at last they had 
come to their senses, Joe, with a final caress, re¬ 
linquished Mabel to Reggie’s care. 

“You’d better go out to the car, dearest,” he 


240 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

said to her. “I’ll be with you soon. I’ve got a 
little business to attend to here.” 

The brother and sister went out, and Joe turned 
to the rest of the party. Braxton had been 
yanked to his feet by Jim and jammed down hard 
into a chair, where he sat glowering with rage and 
fear. Doyle stood guard over Fleming, who pre¬ 
sented a miserable picture of abjectness. 

“Shall I take them in charge, Mr. Matson?” 
asked the police lieutenant. “You seem to have a 
clear case against them. They ought to get ten 
years at least.” 

The fear in the rascals’ faces deepened. 

“No,” answered Joe thoughtfully. “I don’t 
want any scandal and I don’t believe I’ll make a 
charge. At least, not yet. Jim, can you skirmish 
around and find pen and ink?” 

In a minute or two Jim had found them. 

“Now, you contemptible skunks,” began Joe, 
“listen to me. I’m going to get a written confes¬ 
sion from you of this whole business. Put down, 
Jim, that matter of the anonymous letter. Don’t 
try to lie out of it, you scoundrel,” he said, a9 
Braxon started to protest. “Put down, too, that 
hiring of the auto bandits to cripple me.” Here 
Braxton gave a violent start. “Put down that 
attempt to dope me in Chicago. That hits you on 
the raw, doesn’t it, Fleming?” he added, as the 
latter cringed still lower in his seat. “We’ll pass 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


241 


over the matter of hiring Bugs Hartley to do me 
up in St. Louis, for he may have done that on his 
own account. Now add this kidnaping incident 
and the record will be complete.” 

Jim wrote rapidly and soon had the document 
ready. 

“Now we’ll ask these gentlemen to sign,” said 
Joe, with exaggerated politeness. 

“I won’t sign,” snarled Braxton, livid with 
rage. 

“Oh, you won’t?” said Joe. “All right, Lieu¬ 
tenant-” 

“I’ll sign,” said Braxton hastily. 

Both he and Fleming signed, and Joe put the 
document carefully into his pocket. 

“Now,” he said, “I have you rascals on the hip. 
Dare to make one other move against me as long 
as you live, and I’ll have you clapped into jail so 
quickly it will make your heads swim. I’ll put 
you where the dogs won’t bite you.” 

Both Braxton and Fleming rose to their feet. 

“Where are you going?” asked Joe, in ap¬ 
parent surprise. 

“You’re through with us, aren’t you?” growled 
Braxton. 

Joe laughed outright. 

“Oh, dear no,” he said, as he rose to his feet. 
“There’s just one little thing to attend to yet. I’m 
going to thrash you within an inch of your life.” 



242 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

Braxton made a dash for the door, but Joe 
caught him a clip on the jaw that sent him stagger¬ 
ing back into a corner. 

“Now Jim,” said Joe, “suppose you take that 
little rat out,” pointing to Fleming, “and drop 
him somewhere. He got his dose when the ball 
knocked him out in the bleachers, and that per¬ 
haps will be enough for him. Lieutenant,” he 
went on, turning to Doyle, “you’re a policeman, 
and might feel called on to stop any scene of vio¬ 
lence. I feel it in my bones that there’s going to 
be a little violence here—just a little. Would you 
mind stepping outside and seeing whether the car 
is all right?” 

“Sure,” replied Doyle, with a grin and a wink. 

“Now, you cur,” said Joe, as he turned to Brax¬ 
ton, “take off your coat. It’s a long account I 
have to settle with you, and I’m going to give you 
the licking of your life.” 

There was no way out, and Braxton took off 
his coat and closed in. He was a big man and 
fought with the desperation of a cornered rat. He 
got in one or two wild blows that did no damage. 
Joe smashed him right and left, knocked him 
down and lifted him to his feet to knock him down 
again, until Braxton, beaten to a finish, refused to 
get up, and lay in a heap in a corner, fairly sobbing 
with rage and pain and shame. 

“Just one little bit of news, Braxton,” said Joe, 


CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD 


243 


as he turned to leave. “You’ve lost your bets. 
The Giants won!” 

He ran lightly down the steps and jumped into 
the car, where Mabel snuggled up to him. 

“What kept you so long, Joe?” she asked 
anxiously. 

“Just settling an account, honey,” he replied, as 
he drew her closer. “It was a long one and took 
some time.” 

“An account? What do you mean?” the girl 
asked, and then added suddenly: “Oh, Joe, you 
are all—all mussed up!” 

“Am I, dear? Well, if I am you ought to see 
the other fellow, that’s all.” 

“It was a—a fight?” she faltered. 

“Hardly that, Mabel. Braxton had it coming 
to him—and I gave it to him with interest. But 
let us forget it. It’s over now, and all I want to 
think about is—you!” And he held her closer 
than ever. 

A few weeks later the wedding march was 
played in Mabel’s home, and she and Joe joined 
hands for life. Clara was bridesmaid and Jim 
was best man. Mr. and Mrs. Matson, the latter 
greatly improved in health, were present. It was 
a glorious occasion, and all of them, the bride and 
groom especially, were happy beyond words. 

“I’m quite a royal personage,” said Mabel, as 


244 BASEBALL JOE, HOME RUN KING 

the happy pair, amid a shower of rice, started off 
on their honeymoon. “To think of poor little me 
marrying the king of pitchers and king of batters.” 

“A9 Reggie would say, you’re ‘spoofing’ me,” 
he laughed. “At any rate, I’m luckier than most 
kings. I’ve picked a perfect queen.” And Base¬ 
ball Joe smiled broadly. 

And he had a right to smile, don’t you think so? 
THE END 


THE BASEBALL IOE SERIES 


By LESTER CHADWICK 

12 mo. Illustrated. Price per volume , $1.00, postpaid 

BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS 

or The Rivals of Riverside 
Joe is an everyday country boy who loves 
to play baseball and particularly to pitch. 

BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE 

or Pitching for the Blue Banner 
Joe’s great ambition was to go to boarding 
school and play on the school team. 

BASEBALL JOE AT YALE 

or Pitching for the College Championship 
Joe goes to Yale University. In his second 
year he becomes a varsity pitcher and pitches in several big games. 

BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE 

or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher 
In this volume the scene of action is shifted from Yale college 
to a baseball league of our Central States. 

BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE 

or A Young Pitcher's Hardest Struggles 
From the Central League Joe is drafted into the St. Louis 
Nationals. A corking baseball story all fans will enjoy. 

BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS 

or Making Good as a Twirier in the Metropolis 
How Joe was traded to the Giants and became their mainstay 
in the box makes an interesting baseball story. 

BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES 

or Pitching for the Championship 

The rivalry was of course of the keenest, and what Joe did to 
win the series is told in a manner to thrill the most jaded reader. 

BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD 

or Pitching on a Grand Tour 

The Giants and the All-Americans tour the world, playing in 
many foreign countries. 

BASEBALL JOE: HOME RUN KING 

or The Greatest Pitcher and Batter on Record 
Joe cultivates his handling of the bat until he becomes the 
greatest batter in the game. 

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THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES 

By LESTER CHADWICK 

i -——■—■ 

12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors 

Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid 

Mr. Chadwick has played on the diamond 
and on the gridiron himself. 

1. THE K2VAL PITCHERS 

A Story of College Baseball 

Tom Parsons, a “hayseed,” makes good on 
the scrub team of Randall College. 


A QUARTERBACK’S PLUCK 

A Story of College Football 

A football story, told in Mr. Chadwick's best style, that is bound 
to grip the reader from the start. 

3. BATTING TO WIN 

A Story of College Baseball 

Tom Parsons and his friends Phil and Sid are the leading players 
on Randall College team. There is a great game. 

4. THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN 

A Story of College Football 

After having to reorganize their team at the last moment, Randall 
makes a touchdown that won a big game. 

5. FOR THE HONOR OF RANDALL 

A Story of College Athletics 

The winning of the hurdle race and long-distance run is ex¬ 
tremely exciting. 

6. THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS 

A Story of College Water Sports 

Tom, Phil and Sid prove as good at aquatic sports as they are 
on track, gridiron and diamond. 

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THE JACK RANGER SERIES 


By CLARENCE YOUNG 
Ylmo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors 

Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid 

Lively stories of outdoor sports and adventure 
every boy will want to read. 

1. JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL DAYS 

or The Rivals of Washington Hall 

You will love Jack Ranger—you simply can’t 
help it. He is bright and cheery, and earnest 
in all he does. . 

2. JACK RANGER’S WESTERN TRIP 

or From Boarding School to Ranch and Range 

This volume takes the hero to the great West. Jack is anxious 
to clear up the mystery surrounding his father’s disappearance 

3. JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL VICTORIES 

or Track , Gridiron and Diamond 

Jack gets back to Washington Hall and goes in for all sorts of 
schoo’ games. There are numerous contests on the athletic field. 

4. JACK RANGER’S OCEAN CRUISE 

or The Wreck of the Polly Ann 

How Jack was carried off to sea against his will makes a. “yarn’- 
no boy will want to miss. 

5. JACK RANGER’S GUN CLUB 

or From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail 

Jack organizes a gun club and with his chums goes in quest of 
big game. They have many adventures in the mountains. 

6. JACK RANGER’S TREASURE BOX 

or The Outing of the Schoolboy Yachtsmen 

Jack receives a box from his father and it is stolen. How he re¬ 
gains it makes an absorbing tale. 

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THE GREAT MARVEL SERIES 


By ROY ROCK WOOD 
12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors 

Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid 

Stories of adventures in strange places , with 
peculiar people and queer animals. 

1. THROUGH THE AIR TO THE NORTH 

POLE 

or The Wonderful Cruise of the Electric Monarch 

The tale of a trip to the frozen North with 
a degree of reality that is most convincing. 

2. UNDER THE OCEAN TO THE SOUTH POLE 

or The Strange Cruise of the Submarine Wonder 

A marvelous trip from Maine to the South Pole, telling of adven¬ 
tures with the sea-monsters and savages. 

3. FIVE THOUSAND MILES UNDERGROUND 

or The Mystery of the Center of the Earth 

A cruise to the center of the earth through an immense hole 
found at an island in the ocean. 

4. THROUGH SPACE TO MARS 

or The Most Wonderful Trip on Record 

This book tells how the journey was made in a strange craft and 
what happened on Mars. 

5. LOST ON THE MOON 

or In Quest of the Field of Diamonds 

Strange adventures on the planet which is found to be a land of 
desolation and silence. 

6. ON A TORN-AWAY WORLD 

or Captives of the Great Earthquake 

After a tremendous convulsion of nature the adventurers find 
themselves captives on a vast “island in the air." 

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THE BOY RANCHERS SERIES 


By WILLARD F. BAKER 

12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors 

Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid 


Stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as 
a setting, related in such a style as to captivate 
the hearts of all boys. In each volume there is, 
as a background, some definite historical or 
scientific fact about which the tales hinge. 

1- THE BOY RANCHERS 

or Solving the Mystery at Diamond X 

Two eastern boys visit their cousin, whose 
father owns several cattle ranches in the far 
West. One of these is the Diamond X. From 
the moment of their arrival they are involved 
in a mystery with their western cousin. 

2. THE BOY RANCHERS IN CAMP 

or The Water Fight at Diamond X 

Returning for a summer visit to their western cousin’s ranch, 
the two eastern lads learn, with delight, that they are to be allowed 
to become boy ranchers in earnest. The three lads decide to go 
into the venture together. 

3. THE BOY RANCHERS ON THE TRAIL 

or The Diamond X After Cattle Rustlers 

This volume relates how our boy heroes took the trail after Del 
Pinzo and his outlaws and, with the help of the loyal cowpunchers 
from Diamond X, finally rounded up the cattle thieves. 

4. THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS 

or Trailing the Yaquis 

Rosemary and Floyd visiting their cousins Bud, Nort and Dick, 
are captured by the Yaqui Indians. The boy ranchers trail the 
savages into the mountains and eventually effect the rescue. 

Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue 



CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


New York 














THE BOYS* OUTING LIBRARY 

i 2 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full color. 

Price, per volume, 65 cents, postpaid. 

THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES 

By CAPT. JAMES CARSON 

The Saddle Boys of the Rockies 
The Saddle Boys in the Grand Canyon 
The Saddle Boys on the Plains 
The Saddle Boys at Circle Ranch 
The Saddle Boys on Mexican Trails 

THE DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES 

By ROY ROCXWOOP 

Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator 
Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane 
Dave Dashaway and His Giant Airship 
Dave Dashaway Around the World 
Dave Dashaway: Air Champion 

THE SPEEDWELL BOYS SERIES 

By ROY ROCKWOOD 


The Speedwell Boys on Motorcycles 
The Speedwell Boys and Their Racing Auto 
The Speedwell Boys and Their Power Launch 
The Speedwell Boys in a Submarine 
The Speedwell Boys and Their Ice Racer 

THE TONI FAIRFIELD SERIES 

By ALLEN CHAPMAN 

Tom Fairfield’s School Days I Tom Fairfield in Camp 
Tom Fairfield at Sea | Tom Fairfield’s Pluck and Luck 

Tom Fairfield’s Hunting Trip 

THE FRED FENTON ATHLETIC SERIES 

By ALLEN CHAPMAN 

Fred Fenton the Pitcher Fred Fenton on the Crew 

Fred Fenton in the Line Fred Fenton on the Track 

Fred Fenton: Marathon Runner 

Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue. 



CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers 


New York 


















The Webster Series 



By FRANK V. WEBSTER 


Mr. WEBSTER’S style is very much like 
that of the boys' favorite author, the late 
lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales 
are thoroughly up-to-date. 

Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illus¬ 
trated. Stamped in various colors. 

Price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid. > 


Only A Farm Boy 

or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life 
The Boy From The Ranch 

or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences 
The Young Treasure Hunter 
or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska 
The Boy Pilot of the Lakes 

or Nat Morton’s Perils 


Tom The Telephone Boy 

or The Mystery of a Message 
Bob The Castaway 

or The Wreck of the Eagle 
The Newsboy Partners 

or Who Was Dick Boxf , 
Two Boy Gold Miners 

or Lost in the Mountains 


The Young Firemen of Lakeville 

or Herbert Dare's Pluck 

The Boys of Bellwood School 

or Frank Jordan’s Triumph 


Jack the Runaway 

or On the Road with a Circus 
Bob Chester’s Grit 

or From Ranch to Riches 
Airship Andy 

or The Luck of a Brave Boy 


High School Rivals 

or Fred Markham’s Struggles] 
Darry The Life Saver 

or The Heroes of the Coast 
Dick The Bank Boy 

or A Missing Fortune) 


Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine 

or Making a Record for Himself ^ 


Harry Watson’s High School Days 

or The Rivals of Rivertown 


Comrades of the Saddle 

or The Young Rough Riders of the 
Plains 

Tom Taylor at West Point 

or The Old Army Officer’s Secret 

The Boy Scouts of Lennox 

or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain 


The Boys of the Wireless 

or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep} 
Cowboy Dave 

or The Round-up at Rolling River' 
Jack of the Pony Express 
or The Young Rider of the Moun-i 
tain Trail 


The Boys of the Battleship 

or For the Honor of Uncle Sam 


CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, 


NEW YORK 













! 


4/3 



t~+{. c. 


The ‘Bog Hunters Series 

“Bp Captain Ralph “Bonehill' 


12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 31.00, postpaid. 



game, and of great times around the camp- 


GUNS AND SNOWSHOES 

Or, The Winter Outing of the Young Hunters 


I N this volume the young hunters leave home for a winter outing on the 
shores of a small lake. They hunt and trap to their heart’s content, 
and have adventures in plenty, all calculated to make boys “sit up and 
take notice.” A good healthy book; one with the odor of the pine forests 
and the glare of the welcome campfire in every chapter. 


YOUNG HUNTERS OF THE LAKE 

Or, Out with Rod and Gun 


Another tale of woods and waters, with some strong hunting scenes and 
• good deal of mystery. The three volumes make a splendid outdoor series. 


OUT WITH GUN AND CAMERA 

Or, The Boy Hunters in the Mountains 



‘AKES up the new fad of photographing wild animals as well as 


* shooting them. An escaped circus chimpanzee and an escaped lion 
add to the interest of the narrative. 


NEW YORK 

nurt-u 


CTTPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, 

































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